A Call Away
by Jess S1
Summary: Buffy and Charlie get used to living apart again, but still working together and helping each other as their bond continues to grow. Sequel to 'First Meeting' - Part 2 in M&M.
1. Prologue: Worries

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!) **

**Warnings: If you haven't read ****First Meeting****, the first part of the **_**Mathematics & Magic**_**, you might want to go back to that before reading this. This story make sense without it, but you'll be missing a lot.  
AN: Here's the (start of the) second part of the series! **

**I'll say more at the end, but for now: Enjoy! ^_^**

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Prologue: Worries**_

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_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Tuesday, September 17, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as her mom's second call came up the stairs.

"Honey, are you almost ready? You're going to be late!"

Glancing at the clock, the teenager rolled her eyes. Somehow her mom kept forgetting that even at the walking pace of a normal human being, the high school was only twenty minutes away. Plus school didn't start until 7:10 AM, and it was just a little bit past 6:30 AM. "Be right down, Mom!" she called back, hoping that none of the exasperation she was feeling leaked into her tone. The comment was meant to pacify her mother, but if the older woman recognized the exasperation another round of mother-daughter bickering might follow. If that happened Buffy _would_ be late for school.

Finishing off her make-up with a touch of strawberry-flavored lip-gloss, Buffy closed her small make-up kit and slipped it into the front pocket of her back-pack, smoothly zipping that up also. She glanced through the larger part of the bag, nodding when she saw that all of the books she'd need were still in there, since she'd packed the bag after doing her homework—_before_ patrol at her mom's insistence—the night before. Closing that compartment also, Buffy grabbed her purse, nodding as she confirmed by weight that everything should be there. Looking at the open side-pocket, she then glanced at her desk. Her cell phone was sitting there, turned off but fully charged.

Technically, she shouldn't need it. After all, Charlie usually only called at night and none of her other friends—or her mother, even—knew that she had a cell phone. But there was always the chance that something could happen in LA and that Charlie or Lily might call for help. So, Buffy sighed again but quickly snatched the phone off the desk, and turned it on, turning the volume to the lowest setting. That way if it rang it wouldn't attract much attention from inside her purse—_she_ only heard it because of the enhanced senses of the Slayer.

"_Buffy!_"

"Coming, Mom!" Buffy smoothly swung her back-pack up onto her shoulders before grabbing her purse and dashing out the door, stopping for only a second to close it before hurrying to the stairs and down them.

Her mom was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, a plate in hand. "I made pancakes."

"Oh, yum!" Buffy blinked, then smiled, easily setting her bags down by the counter and quickly taking a seat and accepting the plate from her mother. "Thanks, Mom!"

"You're welcome." Her mom nodded, watching as she poured syrup on the already buttered cakes and began to devour them.

After a few minutes of silence—halfway through her stack of half-a-dozen pancakes—Buffy finally decided to stop ignoring her mother and looked up, only to frown at the look of concern on the older blonde's face. "What's wrong, Mom?"

Mrs. Summers blinked, and then shook her head, quickly turning away to busy herself with cleaning up the small mess she'd made in the kitchen. "It's nothing, Buffy."

"No, really, what?" Buffy insisted, frowning as she sensed real worry radiating off her mother, only slightly over-shadowed now by discomfort at being called on it.

After a moment her mother sighed, and finally turned back to look at her. "Was I feeding you enough before?"

Buffy blinked, "Huh?"

"S-Since you became the Slayer, do you need more food?" Mrs. Summers nodded to the plate Buffy had nearly finished in under two minutes. "I remember when you were sick a few months ago—we had to hospitalize you for the flu, remember?—the doctors were concerned with your weight. And while you were always self-conscious in LA, it was never a health-problem. Is it now? Do you need more food as a Slayer?"

Buffy frowned as she considered the question, remembering how Dr. Helgen—the doctor in LA General—had been unhappy with her weight. But then again, Buffy really hadn't been eating much while she'd been caught in the throws of depression. After a few weeks of Mrs. Eppes—and occasionally her husband's—cooking, Dr. Helgen had approved her weight, though she'd still been in the lower level of her height-and-weight bracket and been encouraged to put at least ten more pounds on. Although she had done so, upon returning to Sunnydale Buffy had still found that most of her old clothes were too big for her. Sighing as she realized her silence had only made her mother more uncomfortable, Buffy shook her head. "No. I don't think so. Not really... I mean, I can eat a lot without gaining weight, which is cool. I'm always really hungry after Slaying, especially if I'm hurt. A-And yeah, I do eat more then I used to, but—"

"How much more?" her mother immediately demanded, frowning when Buffy stared at her. "I have to know, honey. Do you need twice as much food at meal times? More health snacks? More vitamins? And—Wait. Hurt? What do you mean hurt? When were you hurt?"

Buffy winced. "Not really bad or anything. I usually just have a few bruises from being thrown around in graveyards and, uh, stuff. Nothing my healing can't get rid of in a few hours." She shook her head at the angry helplessness she could feel now rolling off her mom. She really needed to work on mental shielding soon, sometimes too much of this empathy-thing couldn't be good for her. "Seriously, Mom. It's not a big deal." Before her mom could protest, she rose and went over to the sink, quickly washing her plate and fork to put them in the dishwasher before moving back to the counter to grab her bags. "I gotta go, Mom. Don't want to be late during my first week back. We'll talk later—this afternoon, ok?" Buffy waited for her mom's hesitant nod in response before rushing out the door, knowing that she still had five minutes to spare and that she really didn't need the extra time at the speed she could run without breaking a sweat, but it wasn't a good idea to get into a talk about what her being a Slayer means so early in the morning.

Of course, just thinking about the pluses and minuses of being a Slayer made her wonder—for probably the hundredth time since she left LA—where her sister-Slayer was and how she was doing.

Kendra had always seemed pretty self-sufficient, but she'd still been a younger girl that Buffy belatedly realized had craved any guidance the elder Slayer was willing to give her. And that vision Buffy had had in LA, seeing through the younger Slayer's eyes, feeling the sheer terror the other girl had been feeling, made that belated awareness even harder to ignore.

She couldn't help Kendra now. She could only hope that heaven was real and that that was where the younger girl was now. At peace, as Slayers could really only be in death.

Buffy paused for a moment, glancing from side to side before hurriedly crossing the street and continuing on her way. She hoped she'd be able to help the new Slayer. She was sure, thanks to the tail end of her vision, that the other girl was definitely coming to Sunnydale, to her, and that she only needed to wait for her to arrive. It was hard, but it was the only thing she could do, unless the Powers That Be decided to send her another vision, telling her how to find the other Slayer. As if they'd ever decide to be actually helpful.

She'd complained to Charlie about all of this—and a lot more—in the email she'd sent him yesterday afternoon. She'd kept it as upbeat as possible, trying to focus on the positives of being back in school and with her friends and so on, but some whining had still snuck in.

His response, which came later that evening, had once again been just what she'd really needed to hear. Basically: give everything time. Give herself time. Give her friends time. Give her sister-Slayer time. Simple, but all the more perfect for its simplicity.

School was working itself out already. A few weeks from now she'd be a normal student again, just passing in assignments and—at Charlie's insistence—studying for the SATs. He'd supposedly sent her several books in the mail to help her study for both English and Math, with notes of advice from himself in Math and his mother in English. Supposedly it should be at the post office for her some time this week, but he'd requested that they let him know when, so that he could let her know. She appreciated the extra effort, especially since she knew it bothered him that her mom and friends hadn't expressed any interest in what she'd done or who she'd met in LA.

Already, she was starting to work her way towards comfortable camaraderie with her friends. Yes, they didn't want to talk about the past summer. Or Angel. Or LA. But they helped with research. Willow went shopping with her. They chatted. Hopefully, they'd work their way towards being real friends again soon.

As for the other Slayer, Charlie pointed out that the girl could be coming from anywhere, and not necessarily by airplane. If she had to come from India or even somewhere in the Americas that was a good distance away—if she had no means of long distance transportation, it could still take a long while yet.

Still, he'd added another good piece of advice: ask Giles. After all, the Watcher's Council should know something about her, shouldn't they? Buffy knew there, also, that Charlie was really curious about the Watcher's Council: their goals, their powers, their methods—how did they find Slayers?—all things she didn't know. So she probably should ask Giles. And she probably would. Just not yet. Right now she wanted to work her way back into Sunnydale.

After a few moments of thought Buffy nodded, stopping to wait for the school's crossing guard to give her the go-ahead to cross the street.

Buffy winced as the first bell rang, alerting all students to the start of the school day and the need to be in homeroom within the next five minutes. And bothering her sensitive ears in the process.

She'd give it a week. And then—if the other Slayer hadn't shown up yet—she'd ask Giles.

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_**End of Prologue: Worries.**_**AN: Well, there's the start of **_**Mathematics & Magic Part II!**_** Again, if you're having any trouble following the storyline, etc., like if you don't know who Charlie is or how Buffy knows him? Then you started with the second story in the series. The first is listed in my profile, under the title ****First Meeting****.**

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**For everyone else, I hope you had liked the prologue and everyone had a great holiday season. The first chapter, which is much longer than this, will be up shortly. For now, thanks for reading and Happy New Year! :-D  
**

**Bye!**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 1: Siblings.**_


	2. Chapter 1: Siblings P1 of 3

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: Many thanks to **_**NeverTooOld**_ **for beta-reading this chapter!**

**Warnings: Spoilers for BUFFY S3E3 "Faith, Hope & Trick."**

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 1: Siblings – Part I**_

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_**The Bronze, Sunnydale, California – Wednesday, September 18, 1996**_

Buffy smirked as she claimed the seat across from Willow and Oz, shaking her head as she set two extra sodas down on the table in between them. "Don't let me interrupt."

"Thanks," Oz nods to her, claiming one of the soda's while Willow's busy blushing.

After a moment, Willow was able to shake the slight embarrassment she felt at the teasing off, and actually looked at her best friend, her eyes narrowing. "Are you—" shaking her head, she glanced at her boyfriend instead, jerking her head at Buffy. "Is she all glow-y?"

"I suspect happiness."

Buffy grinned, and shrugged before explaining. "I passed my English makeup exam. Now I'm hangin' with my friends," she nods, smiling brightly. "Hello, my life, how I've missed you!" she shook her head, "Now I just have to take the makeup for health class on Friday, and meet with the school guidance counselor next week, then I'm a normal high school girl again. Or as normal as _I_ can be, anyway."

The other two nodded, chuckling before Willow's attention is diverted for a moment to something behind Buffy, and she sits up a little straighter, grinning. "Hi, Scott. What are you doing here?"

Buffy turns around slightly, shaking her head to raise an eyebrow at the new teenager.

The boy grinned and nodded to Willow, though his eyes were on Buffy. "You told me that if I came after eight o'clock, I could run into Buffy." When Buffy shot her friends a look, he shook his head. "Sorry. I'm a bad liar. It's not good for the soul." Then he shrugged and waved at his face. "Or-or my skin, actually. It—"

"Hi, Scott," Buffy cut in, smiling slightly at his nervous ramblings.

"Hi," Scott chuckled self-consciously, before glancing at the dance floor and asking, "Don't you love this song?"

Buffy blinked, and listened for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, actually, I do."

"Well, would you like to...?"

"Dance?" Buffy blinked, not really liking the idea, but at the look she could feel her best friend sending her way she nodded a bit uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah. I guess." She set her drink down and rose, deliberately not looking at her friends though she was sure Willow was grinning while Oz's face would be tactfully blank. "One dance 'd be fine."

"Great!" Scott nodded, smiling brightly as he held a hand out for her.

Buffy suppressed a sigh, really not remotely able to feel comfortable with this completely innocent, completely ignorant boy that Willow seemed to be set on fixing her up with, but she took his hand anyway, forcing her lips to form a small smile as she let him lead her out to the floor. "Right."

As they reached the dance floor, Buffy was surprised as her eyes were drawn to a younger girl that was dancing by herself in the middle of the floor and she was suddenly hit by a burst of familiarity. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the girl, trying to place where she knew her from. She was so intent in her inspection that she didn't notice when Scott stopped to turn towards her.

"Whoa!" Scott laughed as she walked right into him, "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Buffy nodded, stepping back a few steps and deliberately not looking towards the other girl again. "Sorry, thought I saw someone I knew." She forced a smile on her face again as she and started swaying to the beat of the song, "So let's dance."

She was able to keep her eyes away from the other girl for a few minutes of dancing, but wasn't able to ignore the familiar snarl of the Slayer as a vampire cross the floor behind her, headed to the center of the dance floor. A glance in that direction showed that the other girl was still there, dancing by herself as the vamp came up behind her and tapped on her should before starting to dance himself.

"Whoa, what's he _doing?_" Scott asked, bringing Buffy's mind back to her partner for a moment as he looked towards what had caught her attention, even as she continued to move to dance with the ease of long practice. "Actually, forget that. What's he _**wearing**__?_"

Ignoring the dated dance techniques the vamp was using, Buffy took a closer look at him and saw that he was wearing slightly dirty, brightly-colored clothes that would have fit in better at clubs in the seventies. She frowned as the familiar brunette threw herself into dancing with the vamp, but shook it off and turned her attention back to her own partner, knowing the vamp would stay put at least until the end of the song, though keeping her slay-dar locked on him nonetheless.

As the song drew to an end, she felt the vampire moving away, and turned her head slightly to see that his victim-to-be was actually pulling him towards the club's back door. Blinking, she forced a bright smile to her face as she forced her attention back to Scott, and nodded to him as the song finally ended. "Thanks for the dance, Scott. I'll see you later, okay?"

"You don't wan—"

"Sorry, I've really gotta go. I promised to meet a friend of mine to help out with some things. But we might be back later. Maybe I'll see you then, or at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure. Right," Scott nodded, also smiling though she could sense a bit of doubt and aggravation coming from him. "See you later."

Buffy nodded before moving away, quickly picking up the pace as she focused her Slay-dar on the vamp that had just left, hoping she found them in time. She looked around as she burst out the back door, frowning when she couldn't see either of the pair in sight, and closed her eyes for a moment, bringing the Slayer to the forefront of her mind and searching yet again.

She could feel two more vamps behind her, in the club. About half a dozen a good distance away from the club, but close enough for her to sense. And one that was not in the club but close by.

Before she could push the Slayer sense back, a vision overtook her.

_Someone – a girl – running through a heavily wooded area, grief and terror dominating her mind. Her mind locking on two things: getting away from the monster that had minions chasing her, and getting to Sunnydale. To her sister. To the other Slayer._

Her eyes shot open and Buffy took off, running as fast as her feet could carry her towards the lone vamp and her sister-Slayer, ignoring the voice that was telling her that the younger girl could handle herself.

"_Hey!_" a girl's voice echoed out of a nearby alley, followed by the sound of someone hitting a wire-fence.

She rounded the corner into the alley and frowned as she saw the vamp had the younger-Slayer's armed pinned against her sides in a hold that the girl really shouldn't have any trouble breaking as he held her up against he fence.

"Stop struggling," the vampire snapped, "This won't hurt."

Buffy pulled a stake out of her jacket as he leaned down bite the girl's neck, opening her mouth to distract him. But she paused as the other slayer finally made an effort to break his hold, punching a fist up into his jaw and forcing him to back up, giving herself enough room to kick him back all the way.

The brunette turned towards her and grinned when she saw the stake in the older girl's hand. "It's OK, I got it. You're Buffy, right?" She was distracted for a moment as the vampire came up behind her, but the brunette just slammed her head back into his face, before grabbing his arm and flipping him over her shoulder. "I'm Faith." She nodded towards Buffy's stake before spinning around to kick the vamp into another wall when it tried another attack. "Can I borrow that?"

Buffy blinked, but shrugged and tossed it to her as the vamp rose again.

Faith stepped back as the vamp ran at her again, spinning around to kick him into a wall again, before rushing forward and grabbing his shoulder to flip him around, her stake raised and then quickly jammed into his chest, through his heart, and pulled back just in time to avoid it also turning to dust with the vamp. The brunette looked down at the pile of dust for a moment before shaking her head and turning back towards the alley entrance, tossing the stake back to Buffy. "Thanks, B. Couldn't have done it without you."

Buffy reached out and caught the younger—but irritatingly taller—girl's shoulder as she went to brush by her, forcing her to stop. "Faith?"

"That's my name," the brunette confirmed, taking a step back to shrug out of Buffy's hold. "I'm a Slayer, too."

Buffy couldn't suppress a grin at that, though her eyes narrowed as she sensed lingering fear and pain emanating from the brunette, emotions she could sense empathetically but not see in the younger girl's demeanor at all. "I'd noticed. What took you so long?"

"Huh?" Faith blinked, clearly confused.

"To get here. I've been waiting for you for almost two weeks." Buffy continued quickly, not giving the other Slayer a chance to respond, "What happened on the sixth?"

The younger Slayer drew back, her shoulders tensing as her eyes widened. "Wh-What?"

"Early morning, probably a patrol you started on the fifth, went past midnight into Friday, September sixth. What happened?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Faith protested, shaking her head sharply as she half-heartedly tried to brush by the older Slayer again, only to be stopped as one of her arms was caught.

"Do you have visions, Faith?" Buffy asked, forcing her tone to be as gentle as she possibly could. "'Cause I do. Usually they don't make sense until I know who or what the new big bad is, but this one did. I could see an old vamp, torturing an old woman. I was struggling. I was terrified. I escaped. And I ran. Sound familiar?"

"I—I," Faith shook her head, her eyes lost as she drew back into herself.

Buffy frowned as she felt the formerly suppressed and well hidden fear the girl was feeling increasing as her description clearly brought back highly unpleasant memories. After a moment, an inner voice—that sounded strangely like Charlie—told her that this really wasn't the place for this discussion and she sighed, stepping back and directly into the younger girl's path before releasing her. "We really should talk about this somewhere, else. Ok?" After several long seconds the girl nodded hesitantly, and Buffy asked, still keeping her tone gentle. "Have you got a place to stay?"

Faith bit her lip and then nodded again. "Y-Yeah. Found a motel on the edge of town. They rent out rooms long-term."

Buffy's frown returned, this time more pronounced as she shook her head. "No, that won't work." At the startled look the younger girl shot her, Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You don't know who's been invited into those places before you. And you don't have any control over who can be invited in by the owner. An actual apartment would be different, but..." she paused a moment in thought. "How about we stop by there to grab your stuff and then you can crash at my place for a while?" When she felt a surge of half-protest, half-longing crash through the other girl, she hurried on before Faith could say anything. "It won't be a problem. My mom and I live by ourselves. We actually have two guest rooms. And," seeing that the younger girl still wasn't sure, "I'd kind of like having someone else around. Demons kinda target my house at random times, and I'd hate myself if anything ever happened to my mom. She's already been attacked by vampires two or three times."

After another moment of silence, Faith nodded. "OK. I guess I could do that. Y-Your're sure—"

"Mom would love having another kid around for awhile. She's always nagging me to bring my friends around more often, oh, and she knows about me being a Slayer now," Buffy added quickly, shaking her head at the brunette's curious look, "Long story, I'll tell you later, if you want. But at least none of that will be a problem." Stepping back, Buffy finally waved towards the entrance of the alley. "Shall we?" then she winced, shaking her head. "I just spoke British, didn't I? I have definitely been hangin' 'round Giles _way_ too much." She smiled as the younger girl giggle, then gently locked elbows with her and started leading her out of the alley, sure that she'd done the right thing as she felt relief coming off the younger girl in waves.

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Wednesday, September 18, 1996**_

Charlie sighed, shaking his head as he erased part of his notes and re-wrote part of the expression he was working on. Though the mistake he had made wasn't one that most people—even most mathematicians—would be able to spot, it wasn't the kind of mistake he made. Ever. He never made mistakes with numbers. Sometimes there'd be errors in the data he was working with, or the data could be incomplete, leading to errors in his findings. But he never made mistakes himself. He knew numbers and math much too well for that. Much of what most people learned by memorization he knew instinctively. He'd needed to learn the conventions and the standards to express his numbers in forms that other mathematicians understood, but he'd always understood them on his own.

Of course, he rarely had trouble focusing his mind on anything, math least of all. Usually he could just disregard the world around him for hours on end, giving all of his attention to the problem. This past summer had changed that. He'd ignored his surroundings for the sake of math just a few months ago—in early July—and had been attacked by vampires. Vampires that had probably targeted him because they'd seen that he was awake and alone. That catastrophe had been accompanied by the great blessing of meeting 'Annie'—or Buffy Summers—but it had also made him a bit wary of getting too involved in his numbers when he was home alone.

Except for the initial attack, it hadn't been a problem this summer. He'd spent almost all of his time with Annie nearby. Whether she'd been asleep in her room upstairs—next door to his—or wandering around the house, the yard, or just with him, watching him work—something she did occasionally—her presence had always made him feel completely safe.

But now she was gone. She was moving on. And he was home alone again, though this time his parents were only out at dinner and a movie.

Still, he couldn't concentrate on his math. He couldn't bring himself to trust the sanctuary of the house he'd lived in for all nineteen—nearly twenty—years of his life.

Looking around the living room he shook his head. Maybe he had to figure out a different place to work. In a few months he'd have an office at _CalSci_, but even then he should probably have some kind of designated workspace here at home. Obviously that workspace couldn't be the living room, not for a good long while. Not when that's where he'd been working there on the night of June 2nd, into the early morning hours of the 3rd. Just feet away from where he'd nearly become a snack for three hungry vampires that had looked like junior-high cheerleaders.

_*KNOCK* *KNOCK*_

Charlie jumped as a knock resounded through the front door, and his head snapped around towards it, his eyes wide. He glanced out the window, and wasn't comforted by the lack of sunlight. The sun had set a few hours ago.

_*KNOCK* *KNOCK*_

After a moment, Charlie shook his head and took a deep breath before forcing himself to walk towards the front door, forcing himself to take solace in the fact that vampires wouldn't be able to enter his home un-invited.

_**~ * FLASHBACK * ~**_

"_That's a big no, no," Annie told him, her tone firm. _

_She raised a hand, stopping him from protesting that he obviously knew now that he shouldn't have let strangers into his house to use the phone, no matter how harmless they looked. _

"_I mean the invite. __**Never**__ verbally invite anyone inside your home, especially at night. Say something like 'it's open,' or 'are you gonna stay out there all night?' not 'come in' or 'welcome.' Or, if you can manage it, don't say anything. Just open the door and step aside, that's the easiest one. That way your visitor knows you want them to come in, but a vampire won't be able to since it's not an actual invite."_

_Charlie nodded, seeing the logic behind this. Though he still didn't quite understand what it was that kept vampires outside of a home they haven't been invited into. Still, it wasn't worth arguing with the logic of using the fact as a security measure._

"_Also," Annie added, drawing his full attention back to her as she shrugged, "Welcome mats are evil. Don't ever let your parents put any out."_

_**~ * END OF FLASHBACK * ~**_

Since then, he'd made his parents replace their outdoor welcome mats three times. The first time, he just convinced them that the mat was old and should be replaced. Of course, this was after Annie has spent almost the entire summer hiding the mat all around the front yard, confusing his parents to no end, though they'd found the 'game' rather funny after a while. The second and third time he'd managed to destroy them by 'losing control' of experiments near them. The first had been with fire, which hadn't been a good idea since there were so many plants near the front steps, and because the house was made of wood. The third time his mother had thrown the brand-new mat away when he'd spilled a chemical solution on it that had completely ruined the artfully designed '_WELCOME_' only thirty-six hours after she bought it and three hours after she'd set it outside the door.

_*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*_

Charlie shook his head again, and sighed as he stepped up the door, before unlocking it and cautiously pulling it open.

Lily was standing there, a concerned expression on her face that disappeared as the hand she'd raised to knock again dropped down to her side and a smile lit her face. "Hey, Charlie! How are you?"

"Lily," Charlie blinked, before shaking his head and returning her smile quickly. "Good, good. Uh, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's been great at _Angel's_, oh, and look!" she reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out her wallet, flipping it open to slip out a small plastic card, which she then handed him as she let herself in, letting Charlie close the door behind her.

Charlie smiled as he took it, "You got your license?" he asked, looking at her smiling picture on the card before his eyes ran over the data.

_Lily O'Connor_

_872 Hunter Street_

_Pasadena, CA_

_Sex: F Hair: BLO Eyes: BLU_

_HT: 5-05 Wt: 132 lbs DOB: 08-30-75_

He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised, "August thirtieth? Why—?"

"That was when my life here really started." Lily cut in with a shrug. "When I became Lily O'Connor." Then she shrugged again. "Well, my other choice was July nineteenth or twentieth, but we're already planning celebration at _Angel's_ for those days—officially as our founding days—"

"And unofficially as the day all of us escaped from hell," Charlie nodded, before shaking his head again, frowning at the license. "How'd you even get this, though? You can't have a birth certificate that says this is your name, and—"

"Deborah and Constance helped me," Lily cut in again, smiling all the more widely. "I officially joined their coven yesterday, and Lily O'Connor is the name I'm recognized by in the coven, so they helped me get a license under that name. It's still real and everything. I still took lessons, and it's part of the state databases," she added with a shrug, "It just has a little spell to make sure I don't have trouble with the name-change."

Charlie sensed there was a lot more to the story behind her name and getting the license then she let on, but sensing her discomfort decided to drop the subject, handing the ID back to her. "Well, congratulations," he offered, shaking his head ruefully. "Maybe I'll have my license by the time I'm twenty-one."

"Somehow I can't see it." Lily laughed, shaking her head and smiling widely. "I'm sure you could if you put your mind to it, but you'd have to learn to ignore distractions—even your numbers."

"Yeah," Charlie nodded, with a sigh, "I guess I would have to learn to ignore my numbers." Then he shook his head after a long moment of silence. "Umm, did you need something or is this—"

"Oh, yeah," Lily smiled, cutting in to his rambling before he could embarrass himself. "I was wondering if you'd eaten dinner yet? I made lasagna, but I made a little too much for myself."

"A little too much?"

"Hey, I'm learning to cook at the shelter! It's not my fault the batches we cook in are for twenty to thirty people at a time." She wrinkled her nose a bit in exasperation. "I _tried_ cutting the measurements, but I think I still have enough for eight to ten people."

Charlie blinked, "Well, I don't think I'm hungry enough to eat enough for six or eight people, but I could eat a little bit. I'll—"

"Great!" Lily nodded, turning on her heel towards the door. "I'll be back in about ten minutes, okay?" At his confused expression she sighed, "We can't eat in my dining room—the table's being repaired, remember? And I got a little carried away in the kitchen."

"Oh. Oh! You want to eat over here?" Charlie realized, looking towards his parent's clean dining room table.

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

Charlie thought about it for a moment, glancing at the clock. It was half past six, so even if they made a mess they'd have plenty of time to clean up before his parents got back from their movie, and even if they didn't, his parents' would probably be too glad to see Charlie eating dinner with a girl—who he really had no romantic interest in, but they'd never notice that—to care. "Yeah, I guess so. So I'll set up the table." He nodded, turning his eyes back to hers. "My mom baked some bread yesterday, do you want to try that with it?"

"Sure, that'd be great!" Lily agreed, opening the door. "I'll be right back."

"OK," Charlie nodded, carefully leaning out the door and watching as she hurried back to her house. Both of them—aware of all that goes bump in the night—were suitably wary of it, but he only bothered with a quick glance around the neighborhood after she entered her house and closed her door. After all, Annie had patrolled all around here regularly while she'd been here, and _Angel's Watch_ was doing so now, also. More because Charlie and Lily lived here though, then any real reason. They'd never seen anything dangerous in Pasadena. With a sigh he closed the door firmly, but didn't lock it, hurrying into the kitchen.

Once there he grabbed two sets of plates and serving utensils, napkins, placemats, hotplates and glasses, gathering them all on one of the trays his mom kept handy for this purpose before moving into the dining with them and carefully setting up. Once finished he returned to the kitchen with the tray—and the still empty glasses—setting all three on the counter. Then he hurried into the living room and quickly skimmed over the calculations he'd been struggling with in his notebook, before nodding as he decided that he was at an okay stopping place, and quickly gathering all of his materials into the drawer his mom had set aside for him in the living room.

A glance outside the window just then confirmed that his 'ten minutes' were up, as he could see Lily coming up the front steps, and large dish carefully balanced in two hands, and he hurried to meet her at the door, holding it open so she could just come through and make her way to the table, smiling as the smell of lasagna reached his nostrils while he closed and locked the door behind her.

_0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Summers House, Sunnydale, California – Wednesday, September 18, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as her Mom set a plate of freshly-baked chocolate cookies on the table in front of them, and quickly joined Faith in snagging one to enjoy with the mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows they'd already been given.

"So you're a slayer, too?" her mom asked Faith, sitting in the chair closest to the couch and picking up her own mug of hot chocolate from the side table. "Isn't that interesting. Do you like it?"

"Oh, I love it," Faith replied immediately.

Buffy frowned as she sensed a bit of discomfort from the other Slayer, though she couldn't see any from looking at her.

"You know, Buffy never talks that way." Mrs. Summers shook her head, taking a sip of her cocoa, then asking, "Why do you love it?"

Faith shrugged as she finished off her second cookie and grabbed a third from the plate. "Well, when I'm fighting, it's like the whole world goes away and I only know one thing—that I'm gonna win and they're gonna lose." She finished after taking a bite of her third cookie, "I like that feelin'."

Buffy shrugged, also grabbing another cookie. "Well, sure. Beats them winning and you losing."

Faith shook her head. "I don't let that kinda negative thinking in."

Buffy frowned at her, as she sensed Faith's discomfort growing. Now she knew she was definitely right, Faith wasn't nearly as positive about Slaying as she wanted Buffy's mom to think. But why bother with the deception? Sure, Buffy herself glossed over all the details of the slaying as much as possible, but she didn't hide the fact that it was dangerous for her, and didn't try to pretend she enjoyed it.

"Right. Right," Mrs. Summers nodded, That could get you hurt. Buffy can be awfully negative sometimes. See, honey, you've gotta fight that."

Buffy shook her head. "I'm working on it."

Mrs. Summers glanced at Faith's empty mug as it was set down and rose, "Oh, Faith, can I get you some more hot chocolate?"

"You bet, Mrs. S." Faith smiled brightly, handing the older woman her mug and watching her leave the living room. Glancing at Buffy she asked, "She's really cool, huh?"

"Best mom ever," Buffy nods, smiling slightly. Then she sighed. "You ready to talk yet?" She shook her head as Faith looked away, instantly uncomfortable again. "You gotta get it out sometime, Faith. And I can't help you if you don't talk to me." Seeing the younger girl was still unsure, she sighed. "How about we start with something simple? I'm Buffy Summers, my mom's Joyce Summers, my dad's name is Hank but I haven't seen him in nearly two years. My watcher is Rupert Giles, who also works in the school library. My best friends are Charlie Eppes, Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris. Willow is dating a werewolf and guitar player named Oz, and Xander is dating Cordelia Chase." After finishing she raised an eyebrow, "How about you?"

Faith nodded, and started a little shakily. "M-my name's Faith, Faith Lehane. Don't know who my dad was, never met 'im. My mom was," she licked her lips and shook her head, "My mom wasn't the best of moms. My watcher had me removed from her care when I was eight, and adopted me."

When Faith didn't continue, Buffy interjected gently. "What was your watcher's name?"

"D-Diane. Dianne Dormer. She was a professor at Harvard. Had tenure and everything." Faith looked down, shaking her head.

Buffy opened her mouth to continue, but paused as she heard her mom returning from the kitchen, a new mug of hot chocolate in hand. She watched as her mom paused in the doorway, frowning at Faith's downcast expression before forcing her face to clear and crossing the room to the couch, handing Faith the new mug with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Mrs. S." Faith murmured as she accepted the cup and quickly took a sip of the steaming-hot liquid.

"Careful!" Mrs. Summers protested. "It's hot."

Faith shook her head, grinning slightly. "'Nother plus to bein' a Slayer. We don't burn easily. And when we do get hurt," she shrugged, taking another sip.

"We heal fast," Buffy nodded, then raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't mean we should _try_ to get hurt."

"'Course not," Faith nodded, setting her mug down to cool for a bit before grabbing another warm chocolate-chip cookie.

"Can I get you anything else?" Mrs. Summers asked, hovering over the two of them.

Buffy shook her head before Faith, who'd just taken a bite of her cookie, could reply. "We're fine, mom. You should get to bed. You said you have an early client tomorrow, don't you?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"I remember where the guest room is, Mom. We already gave Faith the tour anyway. And we'll help ourselves to the kitchen if we need anything," Buffy finished reassuringly, rising to catch her mom in a gentle hug. "We'll see you in the morning, alright?"

Mrs. Summers returned the hug, before sighing and nodding her head as she stepped back, clearly tired. "All right. I'll see you girls in the morning."

"'Night, Mrs. S." Faith replied, while Buffy echoed her.

"'Night, Mom."

"Good night." Both teenagers watched the older, clearly tired woman leave the room and head up the stairs.

Buffy waited till she heard her mom's bedroom door close before turning to Faith again, watching as she took another sip of hot chocolate. She waited until Faith had finished swallowing, then spoke. "He killed her didn't he?" she asked, as gently as he could. "The Master Vamp I saw in the vision. He killed Diane Dormer?"

Faith shook her head, taking another sip of hot chocolate and swallowing before she replied, her voice barely audible as she stared unseeingly into her mug. "They don't have words for what he did to her."

Buffy took the half-full mug of cocoa from the other girl as her hand started to shake, setting it down on the coffee table before moving around it to sit next to her, slipping a gentle arm around her tense, trembling shoulders. "Who is 'he'?"

Faith sighed, shaking her head but not pulling out of Buffy's hug. "A big daddy vampire out of Missouri. Used to keep alligators as pets." She bit her lip, shaking her head. "D-Diane said he had them under some kinda spell. Made 'em smarter than normal alligators. We had to fight our way through them to get to him. An' these things were huge, I had to wrestle with one that was at least twelve feet long." She shook her head again, "An' that was before we even got near the damn vamp's nest."

"He was pretty old?"

Faith shrugged. "_Old_, yeah. Diane said he'd been around when Alexander the Great was conquerin' the world. The council thinks he followed the armies. Don't know much about that, but it was a pretty long time ago, right?"

"Yeah, I think so." Buffy nodded, frowning in thought for a moment. "So he was Greek?"

"Huh?"

"I think Alexander the Great was Greek. Was this vamp Greek, too?"

"I-I don't know. Didn't really pay that much attention," Faith blinked back tears, shaking her head. "Just heard old vamp. Big following. Smart alligators. Big problem. Picked some weapons, and went out with her backin' me up. She didn't want me to go alone."

Buffy nodded, remembering how she'd felt when Lothos had killed Merrick right in front of her. How guilty she'd felt for freezing in the first place, and needing to be saved, and for not listening to him more. For not being better prepared to face Lothos. "What's his name?"

Faith was silent for so long that Buffy almost asked again, but finally she got the name out. "K-Kakistos. He's called Kakistos."

"OK. Ka-toa—never mind. You'll have to tell Giles the name." Buffy shook her head slightly. "What else?"

"What'd you mean?"

"Tell me what happened."

"I, uh," Faith seemed to shrink in on herself, her shoulders somehow tensing even more. "I was there, when he killed D-Di—my watcher. A-And I saw what he did to her—what he was gonna do to me." She shook her head harshly. "I tried to stop him, but I—I couldn't. And I—I ran." Her head snapped around to meet Buffy's concerned gaze, her expression desperate. "I—I tried t-to stop him. I w-wanted to help her, but she—"

"It's OK," Buffy shushed her, gently pulling her into a tight hug, rubbing her back as she remembered her mom doing when she was little, or Charlie doing the few times she'd broken down in front of him this past summer. "You're OK, Faith." After a few minutes Faith's tremors and sobs subsided, and Buffy drew back a bit to meet her eyes again. "Faith, first rule of slaying—_don't die_." She shook her head as Faith looked away, gently catching her chin to turn her eyes back towards her. "You did the right thing. OK? You didn't die."

"But—"

"And I'm sure Diane didn't want you to die with her. She probably didn't want to die, either, but she went with you willingly, didn't she?"

After a moment Faith nodded, "Y-Yeah. She always went with me if I was goin' after somethin' big. I shouldn't of let—"

"That was her job, Faith. That's what watchers do. Yeah, the slayers are the ones that are 'sposed to do it every night, but the watchers are our back-up and go-to-guys, right? And they all chose to be that." Buffy added gently. "_We_ didn't get a choice, _they_ did. OK?"

After a moment Faith nodded, bringing one hand up to her face to wipe away what remained of the tears that had fallen there.

"OK. Now I think we should head to bed for now, alright? I've got class in the morning, and—" Buffy paused as another thought that sounded exactly like Charlie broke her train of thought. "Hey, what year are you in school? Tenth?"

"Uh, no." Faith shook her head. "I dropped out when I became a Slayer a few months ago. Just finished ninth, though."

Buffy nodded, "So we'll have to see about getting you back in school," she shook her head and continued before Faith could protest. "I know a lot of the classes seem stupid, but I have actually learned a bit from school that's been useful in Slaying. And who knows, you might actually want another job some day, which you'll need your diploma for." She waited a moment for Faith to respond, but continued when she didn't. "Anyway, we'll head into school early tomorrow, talk to Giles about _kissing-toast_—"

"Kakistos."

"Yeah, taquitos," Buffy nodded, suppressing a smirk as she won another small smile from the other girl. "We'll tell Giles about him and he'll get in touch with the Council about getting you back in school. But right now, we should get to bed, OK? Do you remember where your room is?"

Faith nodded and slowly rose from the couch, smiling as Buffy rose with her before releasing the hold she'd had on her shoulders. "Yeah, I do."

"Okay. The bathroom is at the end of the hall, the linen closet is right next to it. Mom probably already put towels in your room, but you can help yourself if you need anything. K?" Buffy smiled, nodding towards the stairs. "I'll be up in a few minutes, after I clean up here."

"I can—"

"Don't worry, it's fine. Besides, you're the one that's been on the road for almost two weeks, you need sleep more then me."

"Ok, um, good night."

"Good night," Buffy nodded, leaning down to grab the cookie plate and carefully balancing the three empty mugs on it as Faith headed for the stairs. She paused as she heard Faith call her quietly.

"B?"

Turning back towards Faith, Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, Faith?"

"Thanks," the younger Slayer murmured with a small smile, before heading up the stairs.

_0 0 0 3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Wednesday, September 18, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head, smiling as he nodded to the large—and still quite full—dish of lasagna on the table before them before grinning at its creator. "This is great, Lily. Definitely way too much, but it still tastes good."

"Thank you," the blonde nodded, before taking another bite of her dinner.

After a few more minutes of silent chewing, Charlie asked. "So are you gonna take the rest of it into the shelter tomorrow?"

Lily shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe." Then she shook her head. "But probably not. Tomorrow's soup night. Lasagna night is Sundays, and I'm under strict orders not to mess with that schedule."

"Orders?" Charlie grinned, curious.

"From the cooks," Lily nodded. "Martha, Elise and Joanne—they're very protective of their kitchen, you know."

"I'd heard that," Charlie nodded, taking another bite of his lasagna and chewing thoughtfully before continuing. How are things going at the shelter?"

"Good," Lily nodded, smiling slightly. "We're getting more and more people every night. The coven did an expansion spell on our rooms, to make them just a little bigger, when they added their wards to the blessing Lorne received from The Furies."

Charlie frowned, "Won't the health inspectors--?"

"They put cloaking spells around it, to make sure it wouldn't be noticed, but even without them it wasn't something anyone not-in-touch with magic would notice." She told him with a shrug. "For one thing, very few people can imagine the way you see the world mathematically, so they aren't as likely to notice the difference. For another, most people avoid noticing the supernatural as much as possible. I'm sure you've noticed that?"

Charlie sighed, but then nodded. "Yeah. Annie explained that to me," he didn't add that he'd spent weeks after that trying to determine whether his parents noticed anything or not.

Sure, they knew that he'd been attacked and hurt, they rushed home from France and stayed in his hospital room for hours, after all. But after the drugs the doctors gave him initially started to wear off, letting him stay awake longer and think more, they never asked to talk about it. They wanted to know if he was okay. If he needed any kind of help. What he was doing awake at whatever-hour-in-the-early-morning he was attacked on. But they didn't want to know anything about the attack itself.

They must have talked to the police at some point. Annie had called 911 and even if she hadn't said he'd been attacked, the paramedics probably would have reported it. Maybe. But apparently the supernatural-avoidance-syndrome extended to law enforcement, too, because the police had never interviewed him.

"...Charlie? You okay?"

Charlie blinked and shook his head as he realized he'd apparently zoned out for a bit there. "Sorry, thinking. So everything is going well with the _House_?"

Lily nodded, smiling brightly. "Yeah. It's great." She shrugged slightly. "The location probably helps. Ken—or whatever his name actually was—definitely picked an ideal location for attracting homeless people. Course, word seems to be getting around that we're a safe haven from demons and vampires."

"Makes you wonder how that happens, doesn't it?" Charlie asked, taking a sip of his soda before continuing. "How 'word gets around' like that when no one wants to talk about the, uh, supernatural?"

Lily shrugged again, "I guess. The _Watch_ helps, I think. I know a lot of the gangs noticed that, and pretty much tied it back to the shelter."

Charlie was silent for several moments, blinking, before he repeated, "...gangs?"

"Oh, yeah, didn't I tell you?" Lily frowned in confusion, before shaking her head with a sigh. "I think I've met with a leader—or maybe representative—from every gang in LA now. They wanted me to know that _Angel's House_ is considered neutral territory, safe for all. And that the _Watch_ has a free pass through all gang territories." She continued hurriedly before Charlie could say anything in response to that. "It's a good thing, really. I mean, yeah, it could cause a bit of trouble with LAPD or something like that, if we aren't careful, but we will be. And in the long run, its just about keeping our people safe. They're not asking for anything in return. Just telling us they like what we're doing and to keep it up."

Charlie was silent for several more moments, munching on lasagna thoughtfully as he considered this new development. Finally, he swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's good. How many gangs are there?"

"In LA?" Lily blinked, then shook her head. "I really don't know. Joanne's gonna be acting as their contact with us for the _Watch_ and _House_, she grew up here in LA and knows more about them. She should be turning some kind of summary about all this in soon, I'll send you a copy." She took a sip of her soda and then started slightly, before hurrying to say what she'd just remembered. "Oh! One of the gang leaders—from the, uh, the 23rd Street Syndicate, I think—is trying to set up a meeting with another group for us though."

"Another group?"

"Yeah, I think it's a gang that isn't really involved with the other gangs, at least it sounds that way. Mostly, they're vampire hunters."

Charlie blinked again, "Vampire hunters?" at Lily's nod he sighed, "Well, yes, we should probably exchange notes with them. They haven't set a meeting yet?"

"No."

"Well, let me know when, I'd like to be there." Charlie told her, before asking, "Do you know anything else about them?"

"Umm, I think the gang's leader's name is 'Gunn,' but I don't know if that's a first or last name, or just an alias. Sorry."

"Don't be," Charlie shook his head again, quickly finishing off the lasagna on his plate as he thought about what he was going to say next. Finally he decided on an earlier topic. "So you joined a coven?"

"Yeah!" Lily grinned, nodding again. "The _Aquelarre de Plata_. Do you remember Marlene? You met her last week?"

"Her coven?"

"Yeah." Lily nodded, smiling slightly. "I've only been to two gatherings so far, but I really like it. Much more then when I was sister-sunshine for that traveling-preachers, and _way_ more then when I was in Lewisbu—" she stops herself abruptly, her smile vanishing as if it'd never been there.

"Lewis what—?" Charlie paused, shaking his head as the ring of the nearby phone broke into their discussion. "Excuse me," so saying he rose and made his way over to the phone to answer it. "Hello?"

"_Hey Buddy, how are you?_" a familiar, much-missed male voice came over the line.

An excited grin broke out across Charlie's face, "Don?"

"_Yeah, it's me, Buddy,_" his big brother replied, clear amusement in his voice as he added again.

"Hey, nice to hear from you," Charlie continued, unable to keep a bit of the excitement behind his grin out of his voice, but then he frowned slightly. "Sorry, Mom and Dad are out tonight. They should be in their movie by now."

"_Oh, so you don't want to talk to me?_" Don teased him, making his grin come back a bit.

"No! No, but you usually call to talk to Mom."

"_Well you're usually working on something or out when I call. Actually, you were out a lot this summer. Mom said you were going clubbing? Since when do you do that?_"

"Uh, since this summer, I guess. A friend of mine wanted to go."

"_A girl friend?_" Don asked, his tone against taking a teasing turn. "_Anyone I know?_"

"Uh, no. I just met Annie this summer. Didn't Mom tell you—wait didn't you get a voicemail from Annie when I was in LA General?"

"_Voicemail? No, I didn't hear about your accident until Mom told me later that week. I was working a case before that, but I didn't—Oh sXXt._" Don swore as he remembered. "_I'm sorry Charlie, I was working a case then and my cell was destroyed on May thirty-first. The Bureau replaced it with a different cell and a different number. I didn't find out you'd been in the hospital till I called Mom after wrapping that case up later in the week. What happened, anyway?_"

"Charlie?"

Charlie's eyes flew over to Lily, and he winced as he saw the table was already clear. "Can you hold on a second, Don?"

"_...Uh, sure._"

"Thanks," he replied, before turning his attention back to his dinner guest. "I'm sorry, Lily—"

"Don't worry about it," Lily smiled, shaking her head. "I know you haven't talked to your brother in a while. I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"

Charlie nodded a bit absentmindedly as he tried to figure that out, before nodding more decidedly as he remembered that today was Wednesday. He visited the _House_ every Thursday for the _House_ and the _Watch_'s weekly meeting. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the dinner."

"You're welcome," Lily nodded, still smiling as she nodded to the closed container she'd brought the lasagna in. "I put some left-overs in your fridge: I wouldn't be able to finish it all by myself." She told him as she headed towards the door. "I'll just let myself out. Tell your Mom and Dad I said 'hi', ok? And your brother, too, even though he doesn't know me."

"Yeah, sure," Charlie laughed, returning her smile as she reached the door. "Good night, Lily, and thanks again."

"'Night, Charlie," the blonde replied, before stepping through the door and closing it behind her.

"Charlie shook his head, smiling slightly before remembering his brother was still waiting on the phone. "Hey, sorry, Don."

"_No problem, Buddy. Who's 'Lily'?_"

Charlie winced at the teasing tone he could hear in his big brother's voice, shaking his head ruefully. "No, she's just a friend. She lives next door now. The Parkinsons moved to Miami."

"_Florida, really?_" Don asked, and Charlie could almost hear his head shake.

"_Yeah, I think Mr. Parkinson got a job at Disney world, and Mrs. Parkinson can work in any hospital, really._"

"_Oh. Well good for them, I guess. So who's 'Lily'?_"

"_She's just a friend!_"

Don snorted, "_The first time Mom and Dad have probably left you alone since you were hurt, and you invited a girl-who-is-just-a-friend over for dinner?_"

"Well, no. She cooked too much lasagna so she offered me some," Charlie explained, frowning in confusion at his brother's focus.

"_...How old are you again?_"

As his brother's tone somehow became even more teasing, Charlie frowned and didn't repress his instinctive response, "Shut up."

Don laughed, "_So are you dating 'Annie', then? Or is she just-a-friend, too?_"

"U-uh, no. She's just a friend, too. She's not in LA anymore. And who are you dating, anyway?"

"_Huh?_"

Charlie shook his head, "Well, if you're gonna hassle me about not having a girlfriend, I'll return the favor. Besides, I'm only nineteen. The average age of marriage for American men is twenty-seven right now*. That gives me eight years before Mom and Dad can really say anything. You've only got three."

"'_Average' doesn't mean you have to be married at that age, Charlie. Shouldn't a math genius know that?_"

"I do know that, but statistically speaking—" Charlie shook his head and changed his question as he realized his brother might find an excuse to hang up on him if he started his 'math babble' as Don had dubbed it in high school. "Are you dating anyone?"

"_Not right now._" His brother admitted, and again Charlie could almost hear him shrug. "_But I'm on the road for work all the time. You're not._"

"Yeah, but you're five years older than me, so Mom and Dad are gonna be expecting grand-kids from you, first." Charlie insisted, before admitting. "Though I think they were trying to set me up with Annie this summer. I'm not sure how dating would really work with someone you're already living with—"

"_Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Back up. Living with? What'd you mean?_"

"Uh, Mom and Dad didn't tell you?" Charlie blinked, shaking his head. "Annie stayed with us for a few months this summer. She just went home last week."

"_Your 'Annie' is the same 'Annie' Mom was always talking about this summer? I thought she was just one of Mom's mentees._" Don replied, a little incredulity in his voice.

"She's not my—"

"_Yeah, yeah._" His brother cut in with a laugh, before asking more seriously, "_So what was she doing staying with you guys?_"

Charlie frowned as he tried to think of the best way to explain Annie's situation this summer, not wanting to try explaining anything about the supernatural—or that might sound suspicious—over the phone, but wanting to put her in the best light possible. Even though he hardly ever heard from or saw his brother anymore, his opinion still meant the world to him. "She, um, found me. She was out walking the night I got hurt and got me to the hospital."

"_Really? And she called me from there?_"

"Yeah, with my cell phone. I had your number stored there."

"_I should've gotten the voicemail then, what number did she call?_"

"1-XXX-XXX-XXXX." Charlie replied immediately, his knack for remembering numbers assisting him in not needing to actually go looking for his cell phone to know that number was there.

Don was silent for several seconds before he replied. "_Charlie, that's not even my old number. That's the one I had in college. Didn't Mom tell you I switched phone companies 'cause the coverage sXXked?_"

Charlie frowned, shaking his head. "No, uh, I don't think so."

Don sighed, "_Well my number's XXX-XXX-XXXX, now, okay?_"

"Yeah, XXX-XXX-XXXX,"* Charlie repeated the number back, shaking his head as he wondered just how far out of touch he would have gotten with his brother if he hadn't been attacked—giving his parents a reason to have Don check on him the first time they left him alone after the attack. Though it didn't sound like he knew that Charlie was actually attacked. Which, again, could be his parents subconsciously suppressing the link to the supernatural. Something Charlie's logic-orientated and detail-focused mind hadn't been able to do. "Got it." After another moment of silence, he asked. "So how have you been, Don?"

"_Great. Fugitive Recovery's much more interesting then answering phones in Detroit._"

"Yeah," Charlie chuckled, "Mom said you didn't like that."

"No," Don sighed, "she—oh, hey Charlie, I gotta go. Got another call comin' in."

"Oh," Charlie shook his head, hoping it didn't sound like the sudden stop bothered him. "Okay. I'll tell Mom and Dad you called. Take care of yourself, Donnie."

"You too, Buddy. Bye."

"B—" Charlie stopped as he heard his brother hand up, before hanging up the house phone himself. Making his way into the kitchen, he shook his head as he saw Lily really had cleaned everything up already. Even his half-empty cup of tea that had gone cold on the counter hours ago was gone. Still shaking his head, he took a bottle of water out of the fridge before making his way back to the living room to start working on his math again.

It was nice to hear from Donnie. He wasn't lying when he told his mother that he did miss his brother. He hadn't even seen him since the Christmas before last, when Donnie was still playing baseball. Then he'd joined the Bureau and had ended up working all through December on a case—that he couldn't talk about—in Detroit. He finished the case before Christmas, but by that time the ticket him his parents had mailed him was no good as he'd missed that flight and he hadn't been able to find another for a reasonable price.

That didn't seem right. Living so far apart from his brother that he hadn't seen him in nearly two years? His parents had flown out to visit Donnie a few times, but usually at times when Charlie couldn't travel. He was consulting on something. Or finishing his doctorate. Or...something.

The last time Charlie had spoken to Donnie was when both of them were still in college. It didn't seem that long ago. But really, the day he and Donnie had both left for college—almost six years in the past—was the last time he'd spent any consistent amount of time with his brother. Some of that 'time' and its quality in high school could be debated though.

So Don had decided to call him. That was nice. It would've been even nicer if his big brother had returned any of the calls Charlie's had tried in their first few years of college, and when he'd started working for the FBI. But no, Don's usual response was to tell one of their parents: 'Tell Charlie I got his message and I'm sorry I missed him. How is he doing?'

Charlie couldn't help but wonder if this was permanent. Some time in the future, would they only see each other around holidays, when they wanted their families to connect a few times a year? Would they be living hundreds of miles apart forever? Would Charlie have to wait another six years for a call from his brother? And more importantly, was there anything he could do to change that?

The mathematician sighed as he sat down by his computer, opening his email with the ease of long practice and starting an email to Annie. As strange as it seemed, he always felt better when he turned to her for advice. Even if she just repeated what he'd already said to her about something back at him, just the act of telling her about some of his problems usually made him feel loads better. He supposed, given her recent phone calls and emails, the same could be true for her.

A part of him wasn't sure he wanted to ask the big question in his heart right now. From what Annie had told him, the whole world seemed to work on a system of balance. The beings that governed the supernatural adhered to that balance, and it made sense that the scientific world would too. After all, 'supernatural' was really a misnomer: everything that was not man-made in this world was, logically, 'natural,' so vampires and demons and magic—parts of this natural world—really should not be labeled 'supernatural,' and only were because mankind couldn't accept what it did not understand as natural.

But if that was the case, did he want to know what would it take to bring the Eppes family back together?

What price or consequences would balance that out?

And would it, in the end, be worth it?

_**

* * *

**_

End of Chapter 1: Siblings – Part I.

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AN: Well, here's the first part of _Siblings_, which will be continued in Chapter 2. I hope the title makes at least some degree of sense to everyone.

**For the most part, contact between Buffy and Charlie in this part of the series will be by phone or email. Thus, the title A Call Away. But they will see each other in person a few times, too. **

**Sorry for the wait on this, I wanted to post it at midnight last night, but after watching the ball drop—and an afternoon of watching my four-year-old niece and her almost-one-year-old sister—I was just too tired to finish editing it.**

**Good thing, too. My beta-reader returned it to me tonight and I had a whole bunch of holes that I'd forgotten to fill in. When I'm writing scenes, if I don't know specific pieces of information I want to include I write a description in bold and parentheses, to remind myself to look it up afterwards. Well, this time I forgot to do that before sending it off. -_-***

**My beta also found a bunch of numbers I could have used as Don's contact numbers, but I've left the X's instead, because it's supposed to be Don's cell phone: not an FBI office where someone would definitely be able to find Don in an emergency. I thought about putting random, possible cell phone numbers in, but decided against it on the off chance that the use of the number might offend a real person who owns the number.**

**Anyway, I hope everyone likes it so far. The next chapter should be along soon. **

**Once again, many thanks to **_**NeverTooOld**_ **for the rescue!**

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 2: Siblings – Part II.**_


	3. Chapter 2: Siblings P2 of 3

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: Well, here's the second part of 'Siblings,' sorry for the wait.**

**Thanks again to **_**NeverTooOld**_** for beta-reading this chapter!**

**Warnings: Spoilers for BUFFY S3E3 "Faith, Hope & Trick."**

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 2: Siblings – Part II**_

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_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Thursday, September 19, 1996**_

Buffy couldn't suppress a smile as she watched her mentor's glasses come off his face in one hand and a handkerchief come out of his tweed coat-pocket in the other.

"Good Lord," Giles shook his head, staring in Faith's direction for a long moment as his hands continued to work away at his glasses. After that moment he caught himself and hastily put the glasses back on, smoothly slipping the handkerchief back into his pocket with the ease of long practice. "Forgive me, Miss Lehane," he sighed, "I'm afraid this kind of situation—"

"Wasn't covered in Watcher-training?" Buffy cut in with a forced smirk, not liking the discomfort she could feel rolling off Faith at the Watcher's reaction. When both looked at her she shook her head, continuing the joke in an effort to lighten the mood just enough to make the conversation livable. "Actually, what _do_ you do to train to be a Watcher?"

"Uh—Well, there's a two-year program for college graduates, a-and some combat-trai—but that's hardly relevant right now, Buffy." Giles cut himself off, shaking his head.

Buffy only smiled, pleased that her Watcher's exasperation seemed to have effectively overridden his shock and amused Faith just enough to make her stop glancing towards the doors as if she was getting ready to bolt.

Apparently deciding to ignore her for the moment, Giles smoothly turned his attention back to the younger Slayer, his expression changing to one that was part-sadness, part-resignation. "I am aggrieved to hear of Dr. Dormer's death. I didn't know her well, but she was one of my instructors when I first entered the Council's training program, years ago. She was a good teacher, and a good Watcher."

"Yeah," Faith nodded, biting her lip and blinking rapidly. "She was."

Several moments of heavy silence hung around the trio, then Buffy decided to break it with a sigh as she directed her question at her Watcher, "Does the Council know about her death? When's the funeral?"

Faith started and her eyes widened as she blurted out. "I-I want to be there." When both the other Slayer and Watcher looked at her sadly she shook her head harshly, "She was old enough to be my grandma, but she was more of a mom to me then my own ever was. If she hadn't thought it was important that I keep my name when she adopted me I'd be answering to Dormer now."

Buffy blinked, "Why'd she want you to keep your name?"

"I-I don't know." Faith shook her head again, frowning. "She never told me."

"To Miss Lehane's first, Dr. Dormer's body was recovered last week—the Council has several mages in its employ, who were able to teleport the body back into Council hands, where it was cremated as per her last will and testament. She left no standing requests as to what was to be done with her ashes, but she did leave everything to you. Her belongings are currently being shipped her." Giles explained gently, shaking his head.

"Oh," Faith murmured, looking down for a moment, before adding softly. "Thank you."

Giles nodded again, radiating sympathy even as he turned his attention to Buffy, "To your question—about names—it's Council policy with Potentials and Slayers in Council-care. It was decided early in the eighteenth century that when a Watcher took in a Potential he—or she—would not give her a new name, as doing so would allow the family to claim one of their own had been a Slayer if the Potential was Chosen."

"So?" Buffy frowned.

Giles shook his head, smiling gently at her confusion, "So, that is something that was—and still is—a major concern for almost all Watcher-families. Yes, all are proud to help the Slayer in Her endeavors, but every daughter born into a Watcher family is heavily scrutinized for that reason, and is put under many of the same pressures a known Potential is, even if she has not been identified as such."

"That doesn't seem fair," Faith murmured and Giles shook his head again.

"No, it doesn't. But almost every member of the Watcher's Council can trace their ancestry back to the sibling of a Slayer, so it is nonetheless relevant."

"You can?" Buffy asked in surprise, never having thought about that before. Buffy herself had never had any siblings, but she supposed it was stupid to think that no other Slayer had, even before it had apparently become Council-policy to take Potential Slayers from their families long before they were Called.

"N-No, I personally cannot," Giles shook his head, one hand almost reaching his glasses before he noticed it and hastily jerked it back. "But I am not a member of the Council. Most of the twenty-five members of the Council itself, can trace their lineage to a Slayer's family."

"Oh," Buffy blinked, then shrugged, shooting a quick mock-glare at Faith from the amusement she could feel coming for her before turning her attention back to the Watcher. "So what are we going to do about _kissing-toast_?"

"_Kakistos_," Giles corrected with a slightly exasperated sigh before nodding. "And yes, we should deal with him," he agreed, turning to Faith. "Do you remember where his lair is, precisely?"

Faith stared at him for a moment, her eyes widening. "Y-Yeah, but I," the Slayer shook her head roughly. "I-I can't go b-back there!"

Buffy stepped over to the younger Slayer and gently wrapped an arm around her tense shoulders, suppressing a frown at the sheer terror Giles' question had evoked. "You won't have to," when she sensed Giles was about to protest she sent him a sharp glance and a frown. "_If_ he's still in his lair, I'll handle it. But I don't think he is." At the confused looks both Slayer and Watcher gave her, "I think he's coming here," she continued with a shrug. "Just a feeling, but my gut's usually right about this."

Both stared at her for a moment, one in horror the other in surprise, before Giles blinked and hurried into his office. He came back out a second later, a newspaper in hand.

Buffy had to grimace at the sight. She knew her Watcher closely monitored the local news for anything that might be related to the supernatural—paying especially close attention to the obituaries and missing persons—but every time she saw the long lists in the paper she couldn't help but feel like she'd failed all of them. It was her job—her destiny—to protect them, but she could only patrol so often and for so long. She could only be in one place at one time, which meant she did miss vampires, and she did miss victims. Logically, she knew it was unavoidable—Charlie had made sure she understood that this summer, and continually made sure she was aware of just how much _good_ she did, too—but that didn't keep her from feeling guilty.

"That would explain the recent rash of disappearances," Giles told them as he opened the paper to the missing persons section

Buffy's frown deepened a bit as the thought crossed her mind—again—that Sunnydale was probably the only small town in America that had actually had a _missing persons_ _section_ in their daily newspaper. For that matter, its high school paper had to be the only one in America that had regular _missing persons_ and _obituaries_ about their student body in their weekly paper. She wasn't surprised at all to sense a bit of confusion from her sister-Slayer at the sight, but gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze as she murmured, "Welcome to Sunnydale—home of the Hellmouth," before releasing her and stepping closer to the table to study the articles Giles had circle in red marker, with Faith quickly following her example.

"Indeed," Giles agreed with a sigh, shaking his head. "Two young men have disappeared in the last twenty-four hours, from the Sunset Ridge district."

"Sunset Ridge?" Faith frowned, glancing at Buffy. "Is that where my motel was?"

"Yup," Buffy replied, deciding not to say more on that as she quickly finished reading the second article. "Both of them work in fast food? The first one was grabbed by suspected-gang-members on PCP. They vandalized the _Happy Burger_ he worked at but didn't steal any of the money from the registers. And the second one disappeared while he was delivering pizza in the middle of the day? That's new. I hope other vamps don't think of that."

Giles nodded, "Yes. And while I don't quite remember Kakistos' profile, such circumstances are consistent with the behavior of some Master Vampires when they first move into a new area."

"Gives 'em easy victims," Buffy nodded, glancing at Faith. "Do you know...?" she trailed off as the younger Slayer shook her head.

"No, he'd been in Missouri for years before the Council sent us after him," she replied, then frowned, shaking her head slightly. "I-I think Diane said he tends to avoid as much modern stuff as he can. But a bunch of his older minions don't, so it could be one of them."

Both looked at Giles, who nodded again. "Yes, that is a logical assumption. One moment," the Watcher disappeared into his office again, and the Slayers could both hear him rummaging around in his file cabinets before he emerged with a thick file-folder in hand. Opening the folder, he began to set its contents out, muttering quietly to himself as he scanned each page before setting it down.

Buffy rolled her eyes when she saw the headings on the pages—Watcher records of Kakistos. She _hated_ reading those, and judging from Faith's expression she didn't care for them much either. You wouldn't think that a supernatural serial killer's history could be made to sound boring and mundane, but somehow the Watchers managed it. She frowned as the part of her conscious that had apparently been taken over by Charlie pointed out that it was information he would probably like to have, as he always wanted to help her and he needed as much data as possible in order to do so. Did that mean she should start asking Giles for files to study—and would he actually expect her to do it? Or maybe Charlie could give her a summary. That might work. Of course, she could just introduce Charlie and Giles, but Charlie was a part of her time in LA, something her friends—including to some extent her mother and her Watcher—didn't want to know about. She came out of her inner debate just in time to see her Watcher set the last paper down, and quickly asked, "So how old is he, anyway?"

Faith glanced at her, apparently surprised that the older Slayer wasn't reaching for the papers with the answer, but Giles just shook his head.

"_Kakistos_ is Greek. It means the worst of the worst, a name which the vampire has lived up to for a very long time. While not quite as old as _The_ Master, whom you," he nodded at Buffy, "faced and slew in May of '95, he _is_ at least several millennia older than any other Master Vampire you have faced." Giles nodded to the papers he'd just pulled out. "Kakistos was old in the times ancient among the ancient Greeks, and like many Master Vampires exhibits especially cruel habits regarding his prey. He—"

"Wait," Buffy frowned at Faith, "I thought you said he was one of Alexander's Generals?"

"I thought he was," Faith replied, also frowning and shaking her head.

Giles nodded as he cut in, "He was, for a time."

"As a vamp?" Buffy blinked, trying to figure how that would work. "Didn't most battles take place during the day back then?"

"Yes," Giles confirmed, point to one of the pages he'd brought out, where they could see a picture of a ring near the top. "He was the owner of the _Gem of Amara_ for several centuries, which allowed him to walk under the light of the sun." He shook his head again as both Slayers stared at him, horrified by the thought. "It was stolen by one of his less-faithful minions shortly after Alexander's death."

"So there's still a vamp out there that can walk around during the day?" Buffy frowned.

"No, the minion who stole the ring—and soon after named himself _Levici_, or light-master—was overwhelmed by a group of amateur demon-hunters a decade later. What became of the ring after that is anyone's guess, but most hunters would destroy such an object as it could only be of use to their enemies."

Buffy sighed, quickly shaking the idea of vampires walking around in broad daylight—and ignoring the momentary dream of Angel wearing that ring—to return to their original discussion. "Okay, so we should patrol Sunset Ridge tonight, that's mostly warehouses, right? And motels?"

"Yes," the Watcher confirmed, "Council research indicates Kakistos is more likely to favor the warehouses."

"Yeah, Diane said he wasn't much for modernizing," Faith murmured, shrugging when both looked at her. "I do listen some times, and I remember his lair. Nothing electric, all candles and torches. And alligators."

"So he'd probably pick a warehouse that's not close to anything, right? Not near the highway or the harbor, somewhere in the middle?" Buffy blinked as another possibility occurred to her. "There aren't any old castle-like places in the town, are there?"

Giles shook his head. "Only a few significantly modernized ones. The warehouse, where most of the modern technology he might see would be only streetlights and occasionally trucks and cars passing by," Giles nodded again. "That is likely. Though the warehouses closer to highly populated areas should not be discounted."

"Should we check out the pizza place? See where their guy was headed?" Faith suggested.

Giles shook his head, "It's certainly worth a try, but I'm afraid the local populace makes a point of forgetting useful facts of that sort. If you get there early enough, you might be able to grab their receipts, but I doubt any of the employees will be willing or consciously able to help us."

Buffy's lips twitched slightly at the disbelief she felt rolling off the younger Slayer, "Like I said," she waited until the brunette looked at her. "Welcome to Sunnydale." She jerked her head towards the library doors, where they could hear students starting to move through the hallways half-an-hour before the first bell was due to ring. "I've probably saved at least half of the kids in this school at some time, and only one in ten—if that—will consciously accept that vampires and demons are real."

"Yes, most do tend to suppress the information. Especially on the Hellmouth," Giles sighed as he finally allowed one of his hands to remove his glasses again and started cleaning them with the other. "The Council has numerous theories about how the, uh, energies from the Hell dimension on the other side of portal may be effecting the local populace around it. Nothing concrete though," he finished, carefully putting his glasses back on and folding up his handkerchief to put it away. "And the phenomena is not only limited to Hellmouths."

"Okay, well I guess I could run over to," Buffy glanced at the newspaper article again, "_Tony's Pizza_, before school. See what I can dig up." Before Faith could insist on coming along, she added, "While you two figure out how Faith's gonna get into school. The Council's gotta have some strings to pull, right?" she asked Giles, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, yes," Giles nodded, frowning as he did so. "Though it is actually very unusual for an active Slayer to attend school. Normally she's pulled out and homeschooled by her Watcher or another Council employee, ensuring that her school doesn't interfere with her duties."

"Fine, _if_ Faith wants that," Buffy nodded towards her sister-Slayer, "then figure out how you're gonna start homeschooling her or get on the phone with the Council and tell them to get another Watcher out here to help with that." Turning slightly to meet Faith's eyes again, she asked. "Is that what you want, Faith? Or do you want to come to school with me and the gang?"

Faith blinked, looking down for several moments as she thought about it, before finally shaking her head and looking up again. "I never really liked school. Might be different here from what it was like in South Boston, but I liked learning from Diane a lot more." She grinned a little as she continued with a shrug, "Did better on tests, too."

"Okay," Buffy nodded, turning back to her Watcher, "So you need to get on the phone with England and figure out how they're gonna make that work, while I run over to _Tony's_, OK?"

"Of course," Giles nodded, smiling slightly at his Slayer's assertiveness. "Though, really, Miss Lehane doesn't need to stay behind, and it would certainly be safer for you two to work together."

Buffy chuckled even as she nodded in agreement, sharing a smile with the other Slayer, "That's what Mom said." After a moment she shrugged. "Fine, if you really don't need her help."

"I should be able to manage," Giles chuckled, shaking his head slightly before his face suddenly became serious again. "You will report back afterwards, of course?"

"Yeah," Buffy blinked, frowning at the abrupt switch in emotion she'd felt from him, seen on his face and in his actions. "Always do, don't I? I might have to head to my first class before that, but I have study hall second period."

The Watcher nodded approvingly, before continuing. "At some point today, Buffy, I will need your help with the binding spell for Acathla. I believe I'm lacking the requite details to perform it correctly, which is quite problematic."

"Uh, okay?" Buffy blinked again, still a little uncomfortable with anything to do with Angel, especially since Charlie and Lily were the only ones that actually knew—and actually seemed to care about—what happened that day. But her confusion stemmed from that as well, as the Scoobies, her parents and Giles really hadn't shown much interest in anything that happened before her return to Sunnydale. Giles had been nice and shielded her from the Scoobies questions that first night, but after that no one had said a thing about it. "Sure. But Faith and I probably should get going. I have to be back for class in half-an-hour."

"If you want, I can check it out by myself, B," Faith offered a little hesitantly, sincere concern shining through her eyes at wanting to be helpful.

Buffy shook her head, "Nah. It's not just a few blocks away from here anyway. We'll be back in no time." She started moving towards the door, nodding to her Watcher as she passed him, Faith following her lead. "Later, Giles."

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Thursday, September 19, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head as he stared at the chalk board. Since Annie had helped him set the garage up as a calculations room this summer, he'd found himself coming out here more and more to work. And think. Sometimes he had to go elsewhere, since his mom liked to think out here, too, but most of the time this served as a perfect refuge.

At the moment though, it was just reminding him of all the times he and Annie spent out here, going over maps and data that Lily's 'watchers' had gathered.

Sometimes they played air hockey: he lost almost every time, and was almost positive that he only won the few times he had because she allowed it. A few times they played Chess, and he'd let her win several times as he taught her how to play, wanting her to like the logic-game despite how much it tended to bore him. Actually, though, once she got used to it she was really hard to beat. Possibly because of the empathetic bond they hadn't been aware of at the time: betraying his emotions somehow, but most likely because the Slayer was instinctively a creature of logic. Once It knew the rules of the game, it came out to play. A few times they played Scrabble and hopelessly confused themselves. Later in the summer they'd tried playing poker too, but quickly found that their empathetic bond made playing against each other truly impossible, as neither was able to hide behind a poker face. Though the one time they'd challenged his parents to bridge—after Charlie'd spent a weekend teaching Annie how to play—they' d completely crushed the older pair. Most of the time, though, when they weren't working on tracking demons or vampires, they'd just talked.

He missed that. Having someone to talk to all the time, any time.

He could still call her on the phone, of course, or email her. But it wasn't the same. They were leading separate lives now, lives that barely intersected except through fairly regular contact by phone or email.

"Knock, knock."

Charlie shook his head, turning towards his mom's voice to find her standing in the doorway to the garage, two steaming mugs in hand. "Yeah, Mom?"

"I made some hot chocolate, you want some?"

Charlie smiled slightly, nodding as he set his chalk down by the board and crossed the garage to accept a mug.

"Why don't we go watch the koi for a bit? It's been a while since we talked out there," Mrs. Eppes suggested, before turning and walking away without wait for his response.

Charlie glanced at the math he'd been working on, but shrugged as he figured he was at a stopping point—it wasn't like he'd been thinking about it for the last ten minutes anyway—and followed her, taking a few sip of his hot cocoa as he went. As he reached the koi pond he realized that she had put some planning into this, clearly wanting to talk, as she'd set up two lawn chairs by the pond before coming to get him. And she'd poured the hot cocoa _before_ asking him if he wanted any, not that he ever said no. With a sigh, he set his mug on the ground before dropping into his seat and then reclaiming the mug.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?"

Charlie blinked, looking up to meet his mother's concerned expression. "Fine, I guess," he replied with a shrug.

"Really?"

"Well..." Charlie was silent for several moments before he sighed again. "I miss Don. And I miss Annie, but," he shrugged, "there's not much I can do about that, is there?"

"You talked to Annie just a few days ago, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Well, by email, mostly."

"But its not the same?" She nodded, smiling slightly as he nodded in return. "I know. I feel the same way about Donnie. What's even worse is all the long periods of time when he's out of contact, hunting down some monster who-knows-where... I guess I didn't like it when he started in Detroit, because I knew he'd still be in danger there, but this is worse."

"Donnie calls you guys all the time, though, doesn't he? Almost every week?"

Mrs. Eppes shrugged, "Pretty much. But we still worry. Me, your Dad, and you, too." She shook her head, taking a sip from her hot cocoa. "Annie was a nice distraction from that."

"But she had to go back," Charlie nodded.

"Yes, she did. She's back in school now?"

Charlie nodded again, "Yeah. Had to call a few favors in for her, but she's back in now." At the look his mother gave him, he elaborated. "Her school principal doesn't like her, and didn't want to let her back in school. I told the superintendent about it, and he overruled him. Now I think they're inspecting the school, or at least the Principal's job performance, but Annie hasn't mentioned anything."

After a few moments of silent nodding, Mrs. Eppes asked. "When was the last time you talked to Donnie?"

"Before last night, you mean?" Charlie blinked, frowning in confusion for a moment as he struggled to remember. "Uh, um, after I got out of the hospital, I think. I was still a little out of it because of the pain meds. But Annie said he called for me, and Dad gave me the phone."

"In June, you mean?" Mrs. Eppes demanded, incredulous. "Your brother hadn't called you since then?"

"Well, no. I mean he's talked to you and Dad, but that was the last time we really talked," Charlie admitted, then hurried to explain as he saw a storm cloud building on his mother's face. "It's not his fault. Both of us have been busy. I've been working on, um, you know: math, and he's been in the field a lot." Seeing the storm on his mother's face—and her emotions in general—lessening slightly, he tried to distract her. "It sounds like he likes it, though."

After a moment, Mrs. Eppes sighed. "It does, doesn't it?" she shook her head. "He promised that he's only going to do this for a few years, just to gain experience and move up in the Bureau." She shook her head. "How's Annie doing?"

"Good," Charlie nodded, shrugging. "Better, at least. I mean, she hasn't really said anything about school except being happy she's back in. But with one of the Superintendent's assistants watching Principal Snyder all the time, he can't bother her, so hopefully she has it a bit easier now." He shook his head, chuckling. "She says she's doing well in math."

Mrs. Eppes laughed, "I'm not surprised. You're a good teacher, you always have been, as long as you remember—"

"To dumb everything down for my audience?"

"To explain everything clearly, with lots and lots of examples." Mrs. Eppes shook her head again. "You're so good with those examples of yours that it still amazes me that you had so much trouble in English in school. I don't see why you couldn't translate that ability into metaphors and similes."

"I can," Charlie shrugged, "as long as I'm writing about math."

Mrs. Eppes rolled her eyes, "That's not quite what I mean, my little genius." She shook her head, smiling as both started laughing. A few moments later they both looked towards the house as the familiar sound of a truck pulling into the driveway met their ears. "Sounds like your father's home, so I should start supper." She paused for a moment, finishing her hot chocolate, before looking at him again. "You should call Annie and see if there's any time you can visit her in the near future. Or maybe even on the weekend after you start at CalSci."

Charlie nodded, liking the idea, though he was pretty sure Annie wouldn't. "I'll do that." He blinked as his number-obsessed mind reminded him of something, "Her birthday around then, too."*(2)

"A perfect reason to visit her," Mrs. Eppes nodded, and grinned. "And I'll work on making your brother call more."

"No, Mom—"

"Family is one of the most important things in life, Charlie," Mrs. Eppes cut in, her voice firm. "And I won't have my boys drifting apart simply because they're too busy or too lazy to call each other. Now we never know when Donnie can take calls, so that means we need to get him to make the effort to start the calls himself."

Charlie nodded, then sighed. "But I don't want him to be mad at me."

Mrs. Eppes laughed, "That last year at Princeton, when you were by yourself, did you resent having to call home every week?"

"No, but," Charlie shook his head, "but you wanted me to call. And I liked talking to you and Dad, and Donnie when he was here."

"And your brother likes talking to you, just like we do." Seeing her younger son's still skeptical expression she shook her head, and bent down to place a kiss on his curls. "Don't worry so much, little one. You're brother loves you," she shook her head. "Honestly, I'd think you'd have more trouble calling Annie than Don. You haven't even known her for a whole year."

Charlie shrugged, "She never told me to get lost or that she didn't want to hang out with me." He shook his head, chuckling at a few memories. "The only times she really annoyed me was when she'd drag me away from some of my work, but that was usually for something equally fun—sometimes more fun."

Mrs. Eppes shook her head, "Yes, I never thought I'd see the say when _you_ would admit to enjoying clubbing. Though how you got into the clubs when neither one of you is over twenty-one I don't understand."

Charlie blinked, then shook his head again. "They weren't—well," he shrugged. "You have seen Annie when she's really dolled herself up, right?" he asked, silently begging forgiveness for the fib he was about to give.

"Of course, what does that—"

"When the bouncers saw her, they weren't really thinking about IDs," Charlie cut in, hoping his Mom would drop it at that. The real reason she had no trouble getting into clubs was because apparently bouncing for clubs was a common profession for part-demons, who would _never_ even think of getting in The Slayer's way. How, exactly, all of them recognized her on sight, he wasn't sure.

A part of him resented not being able to worry openly about Annie's 'job,' like all of them did about Don's. Yes, Don occasionally ran into the dangerous criminals he was looking for and they had every right to worry about him. But Annie ran into dangerous monsters every night. Went looking for them regularly. She didn't really have any back-up. The only reason there was even a second Slayer was because she'd been killed—drowned—for a brief, but long enough time to activate the next Slayer. And Kendra had barely lasted a year.

Still, he couldn't hold that against his parents. And he couldn't hold the secrecy against Annie, she had more then enough to worry about on her own.

"Oh." Mrs. Eppes blinked, coloring slightly as she shook her head, she probably would have continued if the back door hadn't opened just then, drawing both their eyes towards it.

"What're you two doing out here?" Alan Eppes asked, smiling as he walked towards them, apparently already having changed out of his work clothes for the day. "Watching the koi?"

"And drinking cocoa," Charlie confirmed with a smile.

Mr. Eppes chuckled, shaking his head. "What more could you want on a night like this? Though you might want to head in," he jerked his chin towards the darkening sky. "Looks like it'll rain soon." Then he glanced at his wife, "Do you want to order out tonight, dear?"

Mrs. Eppes started to shake her head, then reconsidered, sighing. "Hmm, some Chinese would be nice, I guess."

"And they usually aren't busy on Wednesdays," Charlie added, liking the idea of Chinese food, though he held nothing against most of the food his mother prepared. It was just some of the weirder dishes—with eggplant and artichokes—that he didn't like.

"It's Thursday, actually, but Chinese is good then, too," Mr. Eppes confirmed with a chuckle as he led the way in. Holding the door open for both of them just as it started to sprinkle, he asked, "How're Donnie and Annie doing?" saying nothing of the confused expression on their young genius's face as he tried to figure out the day of the week.

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_**Sunset Ridge District, Sunnydale, California – Thursday, September 19, 1996**_

Buffy and Giles expectations for _Tony's Pizza_ had been accurate: the little restaurant and its employees had not only been useless, but also completely uninterested in being helpful. Tony himself had even threatened to call the cops after they'd been there for more then ten minutes without ordering anything.

So here they were on patrol just after sunset, wandering around warehouses as the sky became darker and darker. Faith glanced around, frowning. "Aren't we a bit early for patrolling?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, her eyes scanning each of the warehouses even as she tried to reach out with her Slayer-senses for nearby vamps. In LA, she could generally sense vamps from a mile or two away, more if there were a lot of them gathered in one spot, but in Sunnydale it was harder. The Hellmouth fogged it all up, so the best she could normally hope for was a general direction. That and maybe a scream if the vamps had cornered someone. "But we're not really patrolling here. We're looking for anywhere Kakistos might be holed up."

"Oh, yeah." Faith murmured, and the note of nervousness in her voice made Buffy glance at her.

"Faith," Buffy stopped and waited for Faith to look at her as the younger Slayer also stopped. When the other girl's dark, anxious eyes met hers, she continued. "You do the math, okay? There's two of us and one of him. And I doubt he brought his alligators with him."

"His minions—"

"Are nothing. Most Master Vamp's only keep a few minions around them. And we can deal with that, right?" She sighed, wrapping a gentle arm around the younger girl's shoulders when she didn't reply right away. "You're not alone anymore. You've got me to watch your back, and I've got you, right?" After a moment of silence Buffy shook her head gently and asked, "You want to head home for the night? I can look by myself if you want to take—"

"No!" Faith was blinking rapidly as she finally looked up to meet the other Slayer's gaze, her eyes glistening a bit as she nodded hesitantly. "I-I can do it." She took a deep breath and nodded again. "We're the Chosen Two."

Buffy smiled widely, also nodding as she gave Faith's shoulders a gentle squeeze before releasing her. "Right." Raising an eyebrow, she asked. "Ready to keep looking?"

Faith nodded, smiling slightly as they started walking again, both looking around with slightly narrowed eyes.

Buffy smiled a little as she sensed Faith struggling to reach out with her senses, but said nothing. If anything, it was pretty impressive that Faith was even trying. Buffy had given up on it after Merrick's death, especially on the Hellmouth. It was only Charlie's arguments for logic and patterns and the like that got her to take it up again, with extensive meditation to help her develop it.

"So what about you, B?" Faith asked after a few moments of silence as they made their way around another corner. "What was your toughest kill?"

Buffy blinked, her mind flying back to the moment she'd run Angel through and then pushed him into Acathla's portal to Hell, before she shook her head. "Um, well, all of the Big Bad's are difficult, I guess."

"Yeah," Faith nodded in agreement, pausing for a second before adding hesitantly. "Still, your last one must of been harder, huh?" When Buffy's eyes flew to hers, she shrugged a little nervously. "D-Diane talked about it. The Angel-Angelus thing. Not sure how I'd react to that."

Buffy sighed, shaking her head as she forced herself to keep moving down the street, trying to keep her thoughts off the memories the conversation drew up. "Yeah. Killing Angel was hard. _Really_ hard."

They walked in silence for several more seconds before Faith suddenly stopped, "Wait."

Buffy also stopped and turned to look at her, surprised to see her frowning also. "What?" she asked, glancing around again to see if she'd missed something, but not seeing or sensing anything nearby.

"_Angel?_" Faith asked, then shook her head. "I thought you had to kill him after he lost his soul. Wasn't he Angelus then?"

Buffy stared at her for a moment, her eyes wide as her slip-up hit her.

"I-I mean, Red—your friend, Willow—she told me that they tried to restore his soul and thought they got it the second time, but—"

"They were too late." Buffy looked down for a moment, taking a deep breath as she struggled to recollect herself and explain, fighting the urge to run away at the same time. After a moment she decided to continue, but didn't look up. "I-I was about to take him out, and, um, something," she shook her head. "S-Suddenly he was Angel again. He-He didn't remember anything that he—that Angelus—had done. He just held me." Buffy bit her lip, blinking back tears as she continued again. "B-But it was too late. Angelus had—the portal was opening, a-and I had to. So I told him that I loved him. And I kissed him. And I killed him." She didn't look up as she heard Faith move slightly, but she did start when she felt the younger girl's arms wrap around her.

"I'm sorry, B," Faith murmured, her voice almost too quiet for the other Slayer to hear.

Buffy nodded slightly, returning the hug for only a moment before she drew back, one hand flying to her face to wipe away the tears that had just started to fall as she blinked the rest back. "Me too. W-We should—" she waved down the street.

Faith shook her head slightly, a short laugh bursting out as she replied. "Yeah, we probably should. Course, now we're both basket-cases, so we probably shouldn't, but I guess Slayers really aren't supposed to take nights off, huh?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded in agreement, sighing as she added. "Well, we can. Just not when we know a big bad is in town, killing every night." She looked up to see Faith nodding, her mouth opening as if to say something, but Buffy's instincts took over as a snarl from the Slayer made her look past Faith just in time to see a small group of vamps rushing towards them in the just-dark-enough street. "Look out," she snapped, moving forward quickly to put herself between the younger Slayer and the approaching danger, just as she would do for all her friends. She blinked slightly in surprise as she felt Faith then slide into a fighting stance right next to her, but the Slayer accepted it and logically she should to. Even though she really had no time to argue as the six vamps got closer. "Okay, I got six—"

"Three for me and three for you," Faith agreed, just as the vamps reached them.

Buffy sidestepped one vamp, smoothly backing up until she was back-to-back with Faith even as she blocked a blow from another vamp and used his forward momentum to flip him over, throwing him away from them. She blinked as she felt Faith move a few steps away, and grinned—while pulling out her stake—as she glanced towards her in time to see the younger Slayer flipping a garbage can onto one vamp and then kicking it away, the vamp rolling several feet before it was able to stop, struggling to get out. Buffy sidestepped the first vamp again, purposefully backing up towards Faith even as she raised her stake and stabbed forward just as the vamp tried to grab her again, taking another step back as he crumbled to dust.

"Oh, come on, my dead mother hits harder than that!"

Buffy glanced towards Faith again, to see her flipping one vamp onto some nearby construction equipment and pinning him only to start pummeling him with her fists instead of pulling out her stake. "Faith—" she was cut off by a vamp grabbing her from behind, and dropped to her knees to flip him over her head, loosing her stake in the process but still managing to kick him away from her even as two more vamps, a new one and Faith's garbage-can-vamp—the smell gave him away—attacked her. She blocked and ducked several blows from each as she tried to back-up towards Faith again, glancing over to see her still pounding the pinned vamp. "Faith!" she snapped, glaring as the brunette started and glances towards her, "stake him already and give me a h—" She was cut off as another new vamp showed up, tackling her with the other three to drive her away from Faith.

"For Kakistos we live!" the new vamp snarled in her ear, "For Kakistos you die!"

As she felt the vamp moving to bite her, Buffy pitched herself forward again to throw him off, swinging a leg around to trip up the other two as she did so. "Fa—" she stopped as she saw the younger Slayer stabbing a stake into one of the vamps she kicked down, and nodded quickly as she managed to catch the stake the brunette threw at her. "Thanks," she nodded, dashing forward to pin the vamp she'd thrown even as Faith staked the other one, and only just managing to keep herself from staking the last—talkative—one.

She shook her head as she saw Faith coming towards her with a stake raised, "Uh-uh."

The brunette frowned at her. "Why—"

Buffy shot her a small smile, "I don't feel like wandering around Sunset Ridge all night." She jerked her head at the struggling vamp, "He's gonna tell us where Kakistos is."

After a moment, Faith grinned, "Right," she nodded, then glanced towards the construction equipment. "I think I saw some rope over there. You got 'im?"

Buffy grunted, "Yeah," and whacked the struggling vamp's head into the ground as he tried to rise again even as Faith ran over to the dusty construction equipment and then hurried back with several lengths of rope in hand. It took a bit of effort to get him tied to a nearby streetlight, but finally they did and both stepped back, Faith glancing at Buffy for what to do next. Buffy shook her head and raised an eyebrow at the vamp even as she reached her hands up to take her necklace off. "I don't suppose you'll just tell us where Kakistos is? We're gonna dust you either way, but that way'd be a lot less painful."

The vampire glared at both of them before snarling again, "For Kakistos we live! For Kakistos you die!"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "All righty then."

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_**Angels' House, Los Angeles, California – Thursday, September 19, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head as he paid his cab driver before making his way inside, nodding in thanks to one of the House's workers as the older man—who'd probably been a few years younger than Charlie when he'd first been captured by Ken—held the door open for him. "Thanks."

It still amazed him how far _Angel's House_ had come in just the last three months. Sure, they'd had a couple hundred people that were used to working hard ready and eager to help when they started, but almost immediately people had started coming from all around the city to help build the house up. The owners of the lots on either side of the house had both donated the lots and buildings to _Angel's House_ within the first week, so the plans they'd been making originally had immediately been tripled. Now _Angel's House_ was probably the largest homeless shelter in the city, and it was certainly one of the biggest community centers. It was a shelter at night and in poor weather, but open all day too, as a spot that local residents now often gathered, many only subconsciously aware of the _House_'s status at a sanctuary from the supernatural threats in the city.

Still, a surprisingly large number of people had also come forward, aware of the supernatural and wanting to help, thus _Angel's Watch_ was born. According to Lily, most of those in-the-know were in gangs, but she claimed that wasn't really surprising, considering they were the ones stuck on the streets and living much closer to the vamps and demons then the civilians that worked 9 to 5 in the skyscrapers.

Either way, it now meant that to all—or at least most—of the gangs in LA, _Angel's House_ was a violence-free zone. Charlie was still a bit amazed that Lily had convinced all the gang leaders to agree to this, but it was all to apparent in just how crowded the _House_ now was. Glancing through the doorways off of the main lobby, every room he could see seemed full. And it looked like it wasn't just the locals who lived nearby anymore. No, he could see a lot of new faces—undoubtedly all of the gang members Lily said were now welcome at the shelter.

"Hey, you're Dr. Eppes, right?"

Charlie started slightly, forcing a small smile to his face even as he pushed his nervousness down while turning towards the unfamiliar voice. "Yeah," he replied, accepting the hand the African-American man had extended towards him as he stopped. He didn't recognize the man, and he wasn't in any of the right age groups to have been one of the prisoners that escaped with them as he looked older then Charlie, but younger then Don. So that meant he must be one of the volunteers. Or, more likely, one of the gang members Lily had mentioned. "Do I—"

"Name's Gunn," the slightly older man replied, shaking his hand firmly. "Lily said you'd be in this afternoon. I've been waiting to meet you."*(1)

Charlie blinked, but nodded quickly, his smile more genuine as he replied, "Yeah, she mentioned you. It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too," Gunn replied, before finally releasing his hand and drawing back a bit, dark eyes scanning up and down Charlie's form before he nodded a bit, seemingly to himself. "So, everyone's saying you helped put all of this together? And the break out?"

Charlie blinked again, but nodded slowly. "Uh, I-I had a bit more to do with this then our original escape, really. I just—"

"Kept Annie and I sane until she was able to lead the escape?" Lily interrupted, coming up beside them with a smile. She turned to Gunn before Charlie could reply. "Gunn, I see you've met Charlie?"

"Just starting to," the gang leader confirmed.

"Well, why don't we head up to my office, then?" Lily invited, returning her eyes to Charlie. "I have some stuff for you to look at, like I said before." Then she grimaced as she added, "I would've set it up for you in your office, but I think the _Watch_ is still using it as an armory."

Charlie shook his head in amusement, remembering the last time they'd tried to make use of his little-used office only find weapons of all sorts all over the place. "Okay," looking at Gunn he murmured, "it was nice to meet you—"

"Same here, but if it's all the same, I'd like to head up with you for a bit," Gunn interrupted smoothly, nodding to Lily. "We were gonna talk about how my teams might be able to work with the _Watch_."

Lily nodded, "Yeah, that's mostly what we have to talk about anyway." She glanced over towards the room Gunn had come out of to greet Charlie, where several young men and women in similar dark-attire to his were playing various games. "Do you want to bring anyone else up, too?"

Gun shook his head, "Nah. Alonna'll keep them under control."

Lily nodded and turned towards the nearby staircase, both Charlie and Gunn following as she led the way up three flights of stairs, to the fourth floor, where all of their offices were and where most of the research and training for the _Watch_ was done.

Gunn nodded to the training equipment as they crossed the floor. "Fancy stuff."

"Yeah," Lily nodded, rolling her eyes as she moved into her office and held the door open for them. "That was the last thing Annie did before moving home: make sure the gym was well-stocked."

"Will I be meeting Annie any time soon?" Gunn asked curiously. "Heard a lot about her the last few weeks."

Both Charlie and Lily chuckled, but Charlie shook his head. "Annie probably won't be back in LA for a while, unless we run into any emergencies. She's watching the Hellmouth and trying to finish High School right now."

Gunn shot him a surprised look at that, "She's still in school?"

Charlie nodded, "Yeah, she should graduate in the spring."

"Must be nice," Gunn shook his head, his eyes distant for a moment before he seemed to come back to himself and shrugged. "Me? I don't have the time. Dropped out after eighth grade, had to support my sister after some vamps got my 'rents, started goin' after all this," he finished, with a nod at the maps Lily was setting up.

Lily nodded, that same sad look on her face. "Better then me. I never went to public school. My mama was supposed to home school me after my dad died, but she never finished school either. If my grandpa hadn't insisted on it, I probably wouldn't know how to read." She shook her head, grinning slightly. "'Course, they probably regretted teaching me that, since it's where I got the idea to runaway from."

Charlie was quiet a moment as he looked at both of them, before murmuring, "We're going to be offering a bunch of classes here, you should take advantage of them."

"Yeah, Lily mentioned that," Gunn nodded again. "Mosta the gang's gonna be here during the day for that stuff," then he grinned as he nodded towards the door, towards the gym, "And the gym."

"You should come too, both of you," Charlie insisted, continuing firmly as both looked at him. "You should at least sit in on a few classes." He glanced at Lily, "Bob's gonna be giving an SAT-prep course and one to help people earn their GED, right? And I'm going to be teaching a Beginner Math Course, in addition to Math for Non-Mathematicians. All of that could help you get into college. Hopefully I'll even be able to get at least one of the courses affiliated with CalSci, so students could use it for college credit, though they would have to pay for that."

After a moment, Gunn nodded again, "Yeah, maybe I will. I don't know. Your _Watch_ has added a lot of fighters to our side, so maybe I'll have the time." He nodded to Lily again, "I was talkin' to Lily earlier about teachin' a few classes myself. Karate and Krav Maga," he continued with a shrug, "Gonna take a refresher course at the Y first, to make sure I remember the basics from when I took classes as a kid there, but I've been usin' the moves so long they're kinda second nature to me now."

Again, Lily nodded, before raising an eyebrow at Charlie. "Speaking of taking classes, _you_ should really sign up for one of those. Remember, Annie wanted you too?"

Charlie shrugged, now uncomfortable. "I'm really not good at that sor—"

"Nah, man. You should come." Gunn cut in, his voice firm but also much more excited then it had been before. "If you're gonna be around any of this stuff a long time, you gotta know how ta defend yourself."

"Besides, didn't you already start some lessons with Annie when she was here?" Lily asked, frowning slightly as she tried to remember.

"Not really," Charlie shrugged. "Mostly she just gave me a big cross and a water gun full of holy water—she never explained how she got that—and then took me on patrol with her." Then he winced. "She tried to make me better at dodging a few times by making me practice while she threw things at me, but that never lasted long. She always freaked out whenever she hit me too hard."

"Well I won't 'freak out,'" Gunn laughed as he reassured him, "and once you know some moves from actual training dodging should be easier anyway." He shrugged again, "That probably is the best way to teach most ta go up against vamps anyway, since most of 'em are really strong. Problem is they're fast too." Then he blinked as one of Charlie's earlier comments registered, "And it's really not hard to get holy water. You just take a jug of water to a priest or rabbi, or anyone that can bless something really, and ask 'em to do it. Some of the ones that don't see much of the streets might give you a funny look for it, but all'a the ones around here don't mind."

"Oh," Charlie blinked, before grinning a bit sheepishly. "That makes sense." Then he sighed. "Yeah. I guess I should take some classes then, shouldn't I?"

"Tell ya what, we'll trade, all right?" Gunn told him, grinning. "Every time you come to one'a my classes, I'll go to one a yours."

Charlie grimaced, narrowing his eyes at the older man as something occurred to him. "Somehow that doesn't seem like a very comfortable arrangement." At the confused looks both sent him, he added, "Letting you hurt me for teaching you, I mean.

Both Gunn and Lily laughed.

"Maybe, but I'd be hurting you for your own good, you know." Gunn pointed out, thinking for a moment before adding, "How about this: for every class you attend, me and my whole gang'll go to one of yours?" He raised an eyebrow and extended his hand for the second time that night. "We got a deal?"

Charlie looked at the gang leader for a long moment, and glanced at Lily, before finally giving in to the encouraging voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Annie, and accepting the older man's hand again. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess we do."

"Good," Gunn nodded, smiling slightly as they shook hands before releasing Charlie and turning slightly towards Lily's desks to raise an eyebrow at the maps and data-sheets she laid out. "Maybe I'll understand some of that after those classes, huh?" he gestured to the raw data sheets Charlie had set-up for the _Watch_ leaders to keep track of sightings, stakings, etc., in the area.

"Actually, it's not very complica—"

"Yeah, yeah," Gunn cut Charlie off, grinning slightly as he nodded to the map of LA. "What'd the colors mean?"

Charlie stared at him for a moment, before his mind connected the teasing attitude to the one Annie often took whenever she didn't want to try and follow some of the math he'd used to help her with her patrols and just wanted the results, then rolled his eyes before deciding to move on, figuring they really should get down to the business he came there for at some point in that afternoon. And hopefully, after a few classes, at least a few of the _Watch_ members would be able and willing to work with him on the actual analyses he ran for the _Watch_, but for now he was really all they had. "The black X's are known vampire-nests, the lighter red areas have higher vamp-populations, and the darker red dots are areas we've spotted demons in. The orange..."

_**End of Chapter 2: Siblings – Part II.**_

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AN: Well, I hope everyone liked the chapter. Again, sorry for the wait. This chapter just won't end. That's why 'Siblings' is now a three-parter instead of the two-part piece I originally planned.

**Anyway, now Charlie's met Gunn! :-D**

**(1) Once again, I'm playing with the timeline a little bit. This time, I'm playing with Gunn's age. Technically at this point he's supposed to still be a teenager, as he is when Angel meets him, but I've really never thought of him as one. For one thing, I'm actually going with the actor—J. August Richard's—real birth date, so it's not too realistic. It just means Gunn is five years older here then he was in the canon. Which just makes sense to me, since I've essentially made him the big vampire hunter in LA, among all of the LA's gangs, at this point. If he was just a kid that wouldn't seem very realistic, no matter how good he was/is. **

**(2) Again, I've just the timeline a little for Buffy's age. I don't think Joss gave us an actual day, but most figure it would be some time in January since that's when most of her birthday episodes aired. But for my series her birthday is in Februay.**

**On a different note: Though I now have wonderful beta-reader, and several more readers offering to help on that front—which I've very, very thankful for—I'm still looking for anyone that can help me with some of the math Charlie might use later in the series. I would like to include monologs of 'Charlie Vision' and higher level math without skimming over it, but I haven't gone near any calculus since high school and that was the highest I ever got in math (I don't count the Algebra and Statistics I've taken in college, because the Pre-Calc and Physics I took at my prep school was MUCH harder). I've already joined a group that offers medical advice for stories, does anyone know of similar groups for math and/or science? Any help at all on that front would be immensely appreciated.**

**Comments and constructive criticism are still more then welcome, so please REVIEW!!! (Oh, and if you do notice something I need to work on and mention it, I might ask for any kind of help you can offer to follow up on that. If you don't want me to contact you for such help, please say so where you're leaving the review.)**

**The next chapter really is almost done, so the wait shouldn't be too long. I just have to get it to the point where I actually LIKE it, which is really the major problem with the 'Siblings' part so far. I really liked Part I, but II and III are being difficult. Either way, I should have it some time in the next week. **

**Bye for now!**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 3: Siblings – Part III.**_


	4. Chapter 3: Siblings P3 of 3

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: And here is the third and final part of **_**Siblings**_**, again, sorry for the wait.**

**Many thanks to**_**NeverTooOld**_** for beta-reading this chapter and for the recent help in research. ^_^**

**Warnings: Spoilers for BUFFY S3E3 "Faith, Hope & Trick."**

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 3: Siblings – Part III**_

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_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 20, 1996**_

"I still don't see why we didn't just hit 'em last night," Faith complained as she followed Buffy into the library. Both Slayers had barely slept the night before. After Buffy had gotten the vamp to tell them where Kakistos was living—a warehouse that was actually a little outside of Sunset Ridge—they'd called the Watcher on a nearby payphone and been ordered to 'turn in' for the night instead of 'pursuing their quarry.' Neither one had been happy with that, forcing themselves to head home for the night, but staring at the ceiling and glancing towards their bedroom doors and windows for a lot longer then they actually slept.

"Because the Council believes Kakistos summoned many more of his followers to Sunnydale then we originally anticipated," Giles told them as he came out of his office. "And because we don't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, Miss Lehane, but learn from them. Yes, two Slayers will undoubtedly fair better then one: but all the better to wait for the team the Council is sending to help."

"We are gonna hit them this afternoon, though, right?" Buffy demanded, "While the sun's still up, 'cause it should make them more dust-able?"

"Yes," the Watcher confirmed with a nod. "The team will be arriving in just under an hour and resting while you're in school. After school, we will go over their plan—"

"_Their_ _plan?_" Buffy frowned, shaking her head. "Why '_their'_ plan? We're the Slayers here."

"Yes, but the Council's operatives have been handling situations like these for years, Buffy. Many of them have worked with Slayers before, so they're well aware of your abilities and will certainly make use of—"

"We're not tools, Giles," Buffy snapped, glaring at him. "And I don't like that it's only after a Watcher is killed that I even hear of the Council's 'special operatives.' Especially since they didn't send me any help when Merrick was killed in LA! What, were they hoping I'd get killed off?"

"N-No, Buffy, of course not," Giles shook his head, a concerned expression fixed on his face as he watched her. "The Council investigates the deaths of all Watchers, and Slayers. By the time the Watchers assigned to respond to Lothos arrived, you had already slain him."

"And I was locked up in that asylum?" Buffy snapped again, ignoring the surge of surprise she felt from Faith and the remorse she could sense from Giles.

"W-Well, yes." Giles nodded, his expression sad. "Yes, I'm afraid so. As I underdertand it, the Council immediately put pressure on the asylum to release you, of course, but upon further investigation discovered your mother's intentions to take you out and move to Sunnydale. Thus the investigators were withdrawn and I was sent ahead to meet you here." He reached out and caught her shoulder in a gentle grip, "The Council was truly aggrieved to learn of your situation, Buffy, but there wasn't much more they could have done at the time."

After a moment of silence, Buffy turned away from him, easily tugging her shoulder free as she murmured, "I was in there for four months, Giles. With all the Council's _contacts_, you seriously think they couldn't manage to get me out before that?"

"A-As I understood it, your doctors were reluctant to release you to your parents care during their divorce, believing that the tension between them had been the cause of your claims, which seemed highly outlandish to them. Had your home environment been stable, they would have released you sooner. The Council considered suing for your custody, but the legal department didn't think we'd win such a suit easily, and it was predicted that if we did so your doctors would only choose to hold you longer." Giles shook his head and sighed. "Though the Council would certainly have won, and could have gone a number of other routes to gain custody, all of the Council seers—and the Oracle—were against doing so."

"So they left her in a nut-house with doctors who didn't think she was nuts but held her anyway?" Faith cut in, her voice incredulous. When both looked at her, she shook her head. "Now I'm not all that interested in working with 'em either!"

Buffy gave Faith a soft smile of thanks before sighing and looking at her Watcher again. "What's different this time?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What's different about this Master Vamp? If anything, I'd think they would've sent in the troops when you told them about Angel losing his soul, rather than this. I can handle _this_, but even I wasn't sure if I'd be able to kill Angel until I really had to."

Giles was silent for a moment before he replied, "The Council's seers are growing concerned with something in Sunnydale. They've yet to report precisely what it is, but as a result the Council is taking threats in Sunnydale a bit more seriously then before." When neither Slayer said anything in response to that, he asked, "Have either of you Seen anything? Sensed anything?"

Buffy watched Faith shake her head and then shook her own. "No prophecies?"

"No," the Watcher replied, sighing softly. "Not yet, at least."

All three turned towards the library doors as said doors swung open to admit Xander, Cordelia, Oz and Willow. All three of whom stopped abruptly as the doors swung shut behind.

"Whoa, tension," Xander noted, looking around. "Obviously we've missed something. What's the what?"

Buffy felt Giles and Faith looking at her, but ignored them as she swallowed enough of the resentment talking about the Council had unexpectedly inspired to force a shrug. "Cloven guy, goes by the name Kakistos," she told them, while dropping herself into a nearby chair, willing the tension in her body to leave. "Faith was tracking him before she came here." She kept her eyes on the Scoobies as Faith took the seat next to her, surprise and relief emanating off her at Buffy's fib.

"A new Big Bad?" Willow asked, looking from Giles to Faith and then back at Buffy. "S-School's gonna start soon, but we've got third period free." She nodded to Oz as she said this, "We could do research."

"Yeah, definitely," Oz nodded.

"Well, I can try to get doughnuts for study hall, but Snyder and his new flunkie always seem to pop up any time I try to leave school grounds during the school day." Xander complained, shaking his head at the injustice of it all. "Probably have to make do with the snack machines until after school." Then he frowned, "Who is the new flunkie, anyway? He follows Snyder everywhere!"

"He is not a, uh, 'flunkie'," Giles told them, moving towards his office and leaning through the doorway to grab a pad of notepaper from inside. "Mr. Walters is here as a representative of the Superintendent of California, and is investigating complaints made again Principal Snyder."

"Snyder's gonna get canned?" Xander demanded, eyes wide. Then he clapped his hand together, as though in prayer, though the expression on his face was a bit too gleeful, "Please, oh, please tell me Snyder's gonna get canned," he finished his wide, ecstatic eyes focused on the flustered librarian.

"Uh, well, it is possible, I suppose," Giles allowed, setting his notepad down on the table before taking his glasses off and handkerchief out.

"No, no, no," Xander shook his head forcefully, as he led the other Scoobies over to the table. "You're ruining the moment!" he turned to Willow and Cordelia, "Isn't he? He's ruining the moment!" Turning back to the Watcher, he insisted, "You're suppose to say 'yes, he is going to be canned!'"

"W-Well, as I said," Giles replied as he put his glassed back on, shaking his head, "it is—"

"These their plans?" Buffy interrupted, her eyes scanning over the notepad Giles had set down across from her. She reached for the pad, but her Watcher grabbed it before she could.

"No. Actually, I'm still working on the binding spell for Acathla," Giles told her, nodding down to the notepad even though there wasn't any way she could read it at the angle he was holding it. "If you recall, you were supposed to discuss this with me yesterday. Now," he looked down at the notepad. "Physical location, Acathla was facing south?"

"Mm-hmm," Buffy nodded, reaching into her own bag to grab a piece of paper, which she then drew said locations out on. "Acathla, Angel, me. Sword." She drew a line through Acathla and Angel before pushing the paper across the table at her Watcher.

"See that's what I thought," Giles shook his head, "but—"

"Giles look," Buffy rose, uncomfortably aware that every eye in the room except her own was focused on her as she shook her head. "I've got—"

"You should tell 'em, B," Faith interrupted, her voice quiet, but still audible to all.

Buffy flinched, backing up a step at her sister-Slayer's words before meeting her eyes. The younger girl's dark gaze was filled with concern and sympathy, and certainty.

"Tell us what?" Willow asked, breaking their staring contest hesitantly.

Buffy looked at the ground, waiting through several moments of tense silence before she finally took a deep breath. "A-Angel was cured."

"I-I'm sorry?" Giles asked, sounding completely bewildered.

Buffy looked up to find that her senses had been right, every eye in the room was on her, and every one of them—except Faith's—was displaying some kind of surprise. "W-When I killed him. Angel was cured."

"B-but the spell," Willow shook her head, "It—"

"It worked at the last minute, Wil." Buffy closed her eyes, memories of that horrible day washing over her, guilt and pain momentarily swallowing her for a long second.

Then the darkness those emotions created in her mind was suddenly broken by a ray of light, warmth, concern and love coming from the bond she shared with Charlie.

She bit her lip, and tried to redirect a calm thought back at him, hoping it worked before she opened her eyes to a still silent, staring room and continued her explanation. "A-Angelus had already started—The portal was gonna open. I was about to take him out, and, um, something went through him. H-His eyes glowed. And," she shook he head. "He was Angel again. He-He didn't remember anything that he'd—"

"That Angelus," Faith interrupted softly.

Buffy nodded. "He didn't remember anything Angelus had done. He just held me." The memory of the relief she'd felt in that one moment, followed by despair as she realized what she had to do overwhelmed her for a moment, and she felt another wave of concern from her bond with Charlie. Before she could try to send anything back, she heard her cell phone start to vibrate in her bag. It was set so low that most of the others didn't notice, but Faith and Oz both frowned at it. She quickly focused on the calm feeling she normally felt at hearing from Charlie, silently apologizing for ignoring his call.

"Wh-Why did you?" Willow's question interrupted her thoughts, and Buffy looked over to her to see total confusion in her eyes.

"It-it was too late. I-I h-had to," Buffy waved her hand at the picture she'd drawn for Giles before looking up to meet his concerned gaze. "I-I don't know if that helps with your spell or not, Giles."

Giles started, then nodded quickly. "Yes. I believe it will."

"I—" Willow paused, wincing as the first school bell rang, before murmuring, "I-I'm sorry."

"It's OK. You were just trying to help." Buffy shook her head, "Besides, we've got so much building up between us," she waved to include the whole group, then shrugged. "Faith's right. It felt good to get that out." She gave her sister-Slayer a smile as she rose, swinging her back-pack up onto her shoulder. "I gotta get to class. I'll be back to talk about Kakistos later," she nodded to Faith and Giles before hurrying out of the library.

Once outside she moved towards her class, hurrying into her room to drop her backpack into a seat near the door before opening it up and pulling out her math book and notebook, which was still open to the homework she'd done the night before. She set both on the desk before reaching into her bag again, this time to pull out her cell phone. Then she ran back to the door, and almost right into her teacher.

"Miss Summers, what's the hurry? And aren't you going the wrong way?" her math teacher nodded to the nearby clock. "It's almost time for class to start."

"I'm sorry, Miss Glenn," Buffy apologized hurriedly, also glancing towards the clock. "I really need to make a phone call. It'll only take a minute."

The older woman looked at her for a moment, before nodding. "Do you have your homework?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, pointing towards her notebook. "It's in there."

"Did you have any problems?"

"No, well, yeah. I had some trouble with the last two problems."

"Alright, well we're gonna start off with the homework. You have till ten after, okay? And make sure der führer* doesn't see you!" (1)

"Thanks, Miss Glenn," Buffy nodded, hurrying out to the nearby courtyard and arriving just in time to answer Charlie's third call. "Hi Charlie."

"_Annie, are you okay? I felt—you were—_"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, sighing. "Sorry about that. I-I was telling my friends about Angel. About how he died. A-and I kinda got caught up in the memories."

"_A-Are you okay?_"

"Yeah, yeah. I think so," she nodded, now smiling, then wincing a little as the second bell rung. "I've gotta be in my class in less then ten minutes though, so we can't talk long, okay?"

"_Was that your first bell?_"

"No, the second one. My teacher let me step out to call you. Thanks to you my math teacher actually likes me. I'd forgotten what it was like to be one of the ones they like. After I was Called I just didn't—" Buffy shook her head again. "Anyway, what have you been up to. How's Lily doing? How're the _AH&W_?"

"_AH&W?_"

"You know, The _Angel's_ _House_ and _Watch_."

"_Oh, fine. Great, actually. You wouldn't believe how big the House is now. Lily told you about the gangs, right?_"

"Yeah, I talked to her a few days ago. She's been sending me emails, too. Have you met Gunn, yet? She seemed to like him."

"_Yeah, I, uh, I met him last night._"

Buffy frowned, "What? Not as impressed?"

"_No! No, he's impressive. Apparently he's one of the big vampire-hunters in the city. His gang has been patrolling most the poorer areas of LA, all of the gang-lands, for years now._"

"Okay, so what happened when you met him?"

"_What?_"

"When you met him last night, something happened, right?" Buffy rolled her eyes, then frowned at the empty hallway. "How much time do I have anyway?"

"_What—uh, seven minutes, I think. What makes you think something happened?_"

"The way you mentioned meeting him and how defensive you're being right now. What happened?"

"_Nothing—well, actually, it's something you'll probably be happy about._" Charlie paused and Buffy was temped to jump in with another 'what' but she refrained as she heard familiar footsteps coming down the hallway, and grimaced before looking up at the courtyard roof, and jumping up to pull herself on top of it. "_I, uh, I agreed to take Krav Maga classes._"

Buffy blinked, then winced as she started to slip down the side of the roof, quickly locking her feet along the edge to stay in place before hissing—quietly—into the phone, "What?"

She could hear the frown in Charlie's voice as he replied, "_Why are you whispering?_"

"Because I'm hiding from Snyder. How much longer do I have?"

"_It hasn't even been a minute since the last time you asked._"

"Oh. How long did I have then?"

"_Now, you have six minutes. You have till ten after, right?_"

"Yeah." Buffy confirmed, even as she half of her attention was on Snyder—and Mr. Walter's—slowly departing footsteps. "Why are you taking Krav Maga?"

"_You told me I needed to learn something for self defense._"

"Well, yeah, but Krav Maga wasn't quite what I meant." Buffy told him with a wince. "You know that's one of the freer styles, right? I mean, no uniforms, or—"

"_Gunn thinks it's the best one to learn for fighting, or in my case occasionally dodging vampires._"

Buffy thought about that for a second—even as she breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the door at the far end of the hall slam shut behind Snyder—then nodded, "Well, yeah, I guess it is. The whole basis of Krav Maga is getting out of dangerous situations, which you're not supposed to get yourself into in the first place. How much time do I have?"

"_A little more then four minutes. And it's not like I'm going to go looking for trouble, Annie. But I will be going out with the Watch occasionally. And it was your idea in the first place._"

"Well, yeah." Buffy winced, before sighing again. "So Gunn's gonna be teaching that?"

"_Yeah, he's going to give me private lessons for a while, in exchange for my tutoring his friends and family in math._"

Buffy nodded, "Good. That's good. Hey, I should probably go before his toadiness comes back. I'll talk to you later, OK?"

"_Oh, all right. Have fun at school._"

"Ha ha," Buffy shook her head, but was smiling as she hung up and then hit another speed dial.

The phone rang once before a few moments later, Lily picked up. "_Hello?_"

"Hey Lily, it's Annie."

"_Annie! Hi, how are you?_"

"Good. Listen, I don't have a lot of time, I'm actually supposed to be in class. When is Charlie supposed to start his Krav Maga classes?"

"_I-I think they agreed on some day next week. I can't remember when. Why?_"

"Does Gunn know who I am?"

"_No. Well, he doesn't know your real name. He knows we call you Annie. And he knows you're the Slayer. That's all I've really told him. I kinda had to explain how you got us out of—_"

"Ken's Hell, yeah. That's fine. Do you have a phone number for him?"

"_No. He doesn't have a phone. But he's supposed to come in to __**The House**__ tomorrow, uh, evening. Around five, I think._"

"Okay. I'll call back then." Buffy nodded, "Bye Lily."

"_Bye Annie,_" the older teenager replied, and Buffy could hear a distinct note of amusement in her voice.

She frowned at the last thought, but shrugged as she let herself slide off the roof, landing easily on her feet before hurrying into her class. Just as set her hand on the doorknob she heard the door Snyder had gone through before start to open and quickly pushed the classroom door open, moving inside and shutting it as quietly as possible, though part of Snyder's call made it in.

"Sum—!"

Buffy hurried over to her desk and sat down, opening her textbook to the problems under her classmates amused eyes. Miss Glenn didn't look up from the book she was reading at her desk.

"We're working on number seventeen, Buffy," her neighbor, Jonathon, whispered to her. "Miss Glenn put some clues on the board."

"Thanks," Buffy whispered back, glancing over her homework to see if that was a problem she'd had trouble with. She blinked in surprised as she realized it wasn't. She and everyone else in the class looked up as the classroom door suddenly slammed open.

"Miss Summers, running in th—"

"Is there a problem, Principal Snyder?" Miss Glenn asked, rising from her desk with a frown, her eyes narrowed through her glasses at the shorter man.

"Miss Summers was—"

"Here before class started," Miss Glenn told him, before waving at the other students. "As were all her peers. I have a full class today. They're just reviewing their homework before we start. Would you like to join us?"

Snyder's frowned at her, "Why is Summers even in your class? She didn't pass Geometry!"

"Miss Summers did pass Geometry, with the placement test she took a few days ago. Which is why she's here, in Pre-Calculus now. And doing quite well, I might add. Will you and—Mr. Walters, is it?—be joining us?"

"George Walters," the Assistant Superintendent stepped around Snyder to shake the math teacher's hand, "I'm with—"

"The Superintendent's office, I know. As does every member of the faculty and probably every student in the school by lunch now. I'm Jennifer Glenn. Will you and Principal Snyder be joining us?"

"No, I don't think that's necessary, Miss Glenn. Mr. Snyder was just giving me another tour of the school. We'll be leaving now."

Snyder glared at the younger man as he was pulled out of the classroom, "Summers was—"

"Miss Summers was in class before the bell rang, as Miss Glenn just told you. I suggest you look a little harder for—" the door closed, cutting off whatever he was about to say, and the entire class burst into laughter.

"Alright, settle down everyone." Miss Glenn smiled at them, before stepping up to the board to erase the clues she'd written out before. "Miss Summers, what's the answer to question number one?"

_0 0 0 3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 __1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Downtown Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 20, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head slightly as he looked around the vaguely familiar but rarely visited area, directing a question at the other passenger of the taxi. "Where are we going again?"

"That's the third time you've asked that, Charlie," Lily rolled her eyes. "We're almost there."

"Why are we going there?"

"To meet with a few of the LA Council members. We're supposed to be figuring out what the relationship between _The AH&W_ and the covens is going to be. How it's going to develop from here. You said you wanted to get those that were willing to help involved more, right?"

Charlie sighed, but nodded. "Well, yeah. But that didn't mean I wanted to meet with all of them."

Lily laughed, shaking her head. "We're not meeting all of them, Charlie! We're not even meeting all of the Council members or Coven Leaders, just a few. You know there's about six-thousand magic-users in LA, right?"

Charlie nodded again, "I read the report. Los Angeles has the highest population of magic-users in the world, primarily because of the nearby, active Hellmouth, which many have chosen to protect or draw power from, and many more were drawn to subconsciously." Then he sighed again, adding, "But we were doing everything else by phone and email, why are we meeting now? I don't mind, but the timing seems odd."

"All of the casting contracts we had with some of the covens are finished," Lily shrugged. "We don't really need anything right now, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't build better relations with them, right?"

"Well, yeah, b—"

"And they want to meet you."

Charlie blinked, "Me?" he frowned, shaking his head. "Why?"

"Well, you know everyone at _The House_ and _The Watch_ talks about you already, but a few of them had heard of you before that." Lily told him with a smile, "Apparently there are a number of math-geeks in a few of the covens, so you shouldn't feel too out of your element."

"Really?" Charlie thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "I've always disliked the idea of magic-tricks—of illusions set to try to fool the mind—but I guess knowing magic's real now, I should take a closer look at that, shouldn't I? I should be able to analyze—" he frowned as he looked around for a pen and paper, finally reaching for his backpack, only to be stopped as Lily grabbed his hands.

"You can analyze later, we're here." The blonde told him, rolling her eyes as she released one of his hands to pay the driver, then dragged him out of the taxi after her, barely giving him enough time to grab his backpack with the free hand.

"Lily, Lily, I can walk on my own, you know," Charlie protested, shaking his head as she finally released him several steps away from the cab.

"Yes, but we can't stop for you to analyze anything, we're already late."

Charlie rolled his eyes and shook his head as he swung the straps for his backpack on. "Fine, it'll wait." He finally looked around and his eyebrows went up he read the sign on the building in front of them. "A magic shop? Isn't that," he shook his head again, "I don't, a little tacky?"

Lily shrugged, "What better place for a real witch to hide then in plain sight?"

"Indeed," both looked up to see one of the witches they'd met with on several occasions already to discuss _Angel's House_ and _Watch_. "In fact, almost all of the magic stores in the city are owned by actual magic-users. Though many more don't list themselves as magic shops."

"Hi Constance," Charlie nodded, returning the redhead's smile easily. Despite his difficulties comprehending and fully accepting 'magic' as it was, he'd liked all of the actual witches he'd met so far, and Constance was probably his favorite.

"Good morning, Charlie. Lily," the redheaded witch returned, smiling at both in turn before waving them inside after her, even as she switched the sign on the door from 'open' to 'closed.' "Please, come in. We've been expecting you."

"Yeah, sorry we're late," Lily apologized as they entered the shop, both turning to watch the older woman close and lock the door before following her through the fairly large store. "Didn't expect traffic to be—"

"Oh yes, it's awful now, isn't it?" Constance cut off, before waving her apologies aside. "But no matter, we haven't been waiting long. Right back here," she opened a door with a sign that said 'employees only' on it and stepped aside to let them pass.

Inside Charlie was more then a little surprised to find a rather large—and nice—break room. Probably about a quarter the size of the front of the store, the floors were wooden with several nice rugs laid out, and a comfortable sitting area set up in front of a roaring fireplace.

Seven women and one man rose to greet them as they stepped in. The only one Charlie recognized was Deborah, who like Constance had also been very helpful at _The House_ and _The Watch_ over the last few weeks.

"Good morning, Charlie, Lily," Deborah greeted them, smiling as she waved to each of her companions. "Now you know Constance and I. May I introduce my brother, Richard Lincroft and Mathilda Roth, also here representing _Aquelarre del Plata_?" One of the women smiled in greeting and the only man nodded. "We also have Agatha Ward and Andrea Trowbridge here from _Lamia del Lumen_," the oldest woman and a blonde in her forties nodded this time. "Alena Morrison is representing _Magia Velves_ and Andrea Dolin is from _Custodia Lux_. Finally, from _Ora Soror_ we have Erika Bilmal and Natalie Wharton."

"Pleased to meet you," Charlie murmured hesitantly, Lily echoing him. As hesitant as he still was to fully accept 'magic,' he could feel something was different about these people. The slight empathetic-ability he'd gained from his bond with Annie was registering only curiosity and confidence. Total, complete confidence. And a large part of him was quite certain that these ten people could well and truly take anything and everything the world might throw at them. It was the kind of faith he'd come to have in Annie and she in him, but neither one of them could claim the same faith in themselves. Not like the group in front of him could.

"As are we to meet you, Dr. Eppes," Andrea Trowbridge—the forty-something blonde from the _Lamia del Lumen _Coven—smiled at him. "We were disappointed when you were unable to come when we met with the young Slayer a few weeks ago."

Charlie nodded, wincing slightly as he remembered how unhappy Annie had been with him when he was unable to attend, but there really hadn't been much he could do. True, he hadn't been all that interested in meeting the magic-users, but he hadn't deliberately chosen to send Annie to meet the group by herself. He hadn't even known until several days after that that Lily hadn't been available to go either. "Yes, sorry—"

Trowbridge cut him off, shaking her head gently. "No need to apologize, Dr. Eppes. Work must always come before play, we understand."

"Yes," the oldest member of the group—the white-haired Agatha Ward—agreed. "We all understand that. Still, it was good of you to come now. Now why don't we all sit down? All this standing around might be just fine for you young people, but I'm too old for that." Everyone chuckled a little as they obediently followed her example and claimed seats in front of the fire. "Come sit by me, dear," she directed at Charlie, "I'd like to take a look at your side of the blood bond with Miss Summers."

After a moment's hesitation, Charlie nervously obeyed, nodding in thanks as one of the younger witches—all of whom were at least ten years his senior—vacated the seat next to the eldest witch for him to take. Once there, he shifted nervously as pale blue eyes stared at him for several long moments before the old woman nodded to herself.

"Yes, yes. An excellent bond." The old woman shook her head, smiling slightly. "I've only seen a few others like it. I wonder if that is more the will of Sineya coming into effect or if it is entirely a result of you and Miss Summers?" (2)

"Surely Sineya's will must have had some effect on the bonding process, Madam Ward," Richard Lincroft interjected, his tone thoughtful.

The old lady smiled, shaking her head slightly. "Of course Sineya's will would have affected the bonding process, Richard. But the essence of the bond completing itself so indicates a great degree of compatibility between Dr. Eppes and Miss Summers. On some level: spiritual, subconscious, call it whatever you will, but on some level they are so compatible that the bond was able to form completely, with almost no effort on their part."

"Sineya?" Charlie asked, before anyone else could speak as Madam Ward finished.

"The First Slayer," the witch from the _Ora Soror_ coven, Natalie Wharton replied. "Millions of years ago a group of shamans implanted a young girl with the essence of a demon, giving her tremendous combative abilities, stamina, agility, strength and predatory instincts. That girl was Sineya. Ever since she was killed, her powers have passed from one girl to another, until they finally reached Miss Summers."

Charlie shook his head in confusion, "The Watchers—"

"Are actually a very new organization. Relatively speaking, of course. They're older then all of the modern countries, but the Slayer had existed on its own for millions of years before the descendents of the Shadow Men—the shamans who made Her—truly took up that role. For the most part, the Watchers have always been content to watch from the shadows as the Chosen One does the work for them."

Charlie was surprised at the bitter note in the white-haired witch's voice, matched by the uncomfortable expressions all around the room, but a part of him agreed with them. He'd already asked Annie a number of times exactly what the 'Watchers Council' did. If there was a whole organization supposedly supporting her, why was there only one Watcher in Sunnydale? And why was that Watcher only expected to do research and record the Slayers deeds? Why didn't they fight as well?

"But that's a discussion for another time, dear," Madam Ward murmured, shaking her head slightly and somehow seeming to banish the heavy air of discontent that had arisen from the topic. "We have more then enough to discuss without getting into all of that. Madam Westwood and Miss Lincroft both said you have some questions for us?" she murmured nodding towards Constance and Deborah.

Charlie blinked, surprised to find that she was right. He did have questions. Dozens that he'd carried around since he first learned of demons and vampires. And many more that had arisen as he learned more about the 'supernatural' world. Questions that Annie and Gunn and other demon hunters hadn't been able to answer. But perhaps these people could.

_0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**An Old Warehouse, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 20, 1996**_

Buffy stared, her eyes wide in horror for a moment to long as it gave Kakistos the chance to whack her into the nearby wall.

"I guess you need a bigger stake, slayer!" the older master-vamp laughed, shaking his head as he advanced on both of the momentarily down Slayers.

Buffy felt the part of her that was becoming more and more the Slayer each day snarl in response as she leapt to her feet and started exchanging blows with the ancient vampire again. Ducking and kicking, pushing and pulling, she managed to fight her way out of the corner he'd forced them into, all the while looking around for anything she could use to slay him. None of the watcher-soldiers—she wasn't sure what they were actually supposed to be called, they weren't Watchers like Giles was, but they were part of the same organization—were paying any real attention to her and Faith, or Kakistos. Their focus was on dusting his minions all around the warehouse, what little attention they spared the main fight was only to avoid it.

After kicking Kakistos back further, she spared a glance behind her, looking for Faith and was surprised—but very relieved—when she saw the younger Slayer had risen and picked up a gigantic piece of wood that had probably been one of the warehouse's supports before the fight had started.

Buffy ducked instinctively and pushed the older vamp towards Faith as he passed her, extending one foot slightly to make him stumble just as Faith started running towards him with the six-foot-stake.

Kakistos saw the younger Slayer coming, but didn't have time to dodge or block the killing blow that came with her as she drove the enormous stake through his chest.

Buffy couldn't help the smile that lit her face as they watched the ancient vampire's form disintegrate, crumbling to dust in the time it took to blink an eye. She glanced around before relaxing as she saw that her senses were right, if any minions remained they were long gone. She shook her head as she made her way over to Faith, smiling as she raised her arm slightly, one eyebrow also rising as she asked, "You hungry?"

Faith blinked at her for a long moment, seeming to pull herself out of a daze. Maybe a mild case of shock, Buffy knew she'd certainly been shocked for a long time after she'd managed to slay Lothos, and the Master, and Angel. But the brunette shook it off as she dropped her improvised-'larger-stake' and locked elbows with Buffy, replying a little bit hesitantly, "Starved."

Buffy nodded, her smile widening slightly as she turned them towards the exit. "Come on. My mom was making cookies when we left."

"Miss Summers! Miss Lehane!"

Both paused and looked back at the leader of the watchers-with-combat-training, neither pleased with the interruption.

"You must report to Mr. Giles with us, for debriefing, of course."

Now both of Buffy's eyebrows shot up as she shook her head. "Oh no. No, no, no. Giles will get his report in the morning. Not before. Faith and I will be headed home to the cookies my mom was baking before we left. We'll see you tomorrow. Maybe." Then she pulled an unresisting Faith out with her before the Watcher could object further.

As nice as it had been to learn that the Watchers actually did have some people trained to fight and weren't completely dependent on The Slayer to 'fight the forces of darkness,' the last several hours they'd spent with this team of specially-trained Watchers hadn't reassured her all that much on that front. Sure, they'd done their job—for the most part—and kept the minions busy so she and Faith were free to Slay the Master, but she was pretty sure a few had escaped in the process. As the Watchers had had the vampires outnumbered at least two-to-one, that was just kind of pathetic. Especially since all they'd really needed to do to stop that—with the sun still up—was watch the entrance to the sewers a little more closely then they had. The vamps may have had another sewer entrance that the Council's blue-prints hadn't accounted for, but that didn't excuse the half-a-dozen vamps that had gotten away. Even though the Watchers didn't have the Slayer's senses screaming at them to go after the fleeing vamps even as she was dodging and trading blows with Kakistos.

And their leader had reminded her too much of Snyder for her to be remotely comfortable near him. After she'd made it clear that she wasn't going to follow his orders he'd become a bit more bearable, if only because he hadn't said anything to her. Or Faith after the younger Slayer told him she was sticking with Buffy. Whether the man had then paid attention to the plans she and Faith had then made, she didn't know. Buffy had tried to mix most of the Watchers plans in with her own as she'd been looking at the blue-print of the warehouse they'd somehow made available, so it was entirely possible he'd ignored everything she said and they'd just been lucky that neither of their plans had crashed with unfortunate side-effects. Of course, it was also possible the other team members, the ones that were actually involved in the fighting had listened to her just as much as they'd listened to their supposed leader: who, she'd noticed, had only entered the warehouse _after_ Kakistos was a pile of dust on the floor.

Buffy shook her head as she tried to push those negative thoughts aside as she turned her attention to Faith. "So, you like chocolate chip cookies?"

Faith snorted, shaking her head. "Are there actually people that don't?"

"Yup," Buffy nodded, "strange, deprived and tasteless people like my Great-Uncle Fred. He hates chocolate in all forms."

"Well I love chocolate," Faith assured her, shaking her head with a laugh. "In all forms. Especially the gooey-little chips in homemade cookies. And I hope your mom made a lot, 'cause I really am starving."

Buffy laughed, rolling her eyes. "Didn't you see the kitchen when we left a few hours ago?" At Faith's confused look, she shook her head. "No? I think when we told her the Council was actually giving us back-up to help with Kakistos she decided to bake a batch for everyone on the team!" Her smile widened as Faith laughed softly, enjoying her amusement. She remained quiet for several long moments then, before finally asking. "So how're you feeling now? You seemed pretty scared back there."

Faith tensed a little, almost missing a step before she forced herself to take a deep breath and reply calmly. "Five by five, B," then she looked away for a moment, before shaking her head and meeting Buffy's eyes. "S-Sorry. It was just," she shook her head again, her eyes becoming distant. "Seeing him again..."

Buffy watched her a long moment, but finished for her when the brunette didn't continue, "Brought back memories?" She nodded after Faith nodded in reply. "Yeah, I can relate." She licked her lips before continuing, her mind drifting back for a moment to her own early days as the Slayer. "After Lothos killed Merrick, my first Watcher, I-I guess I just kind of lost it. I eventually managed to Slay him, but then my parents threw me in an asylum while they got a divorce and when we moved out here, my mom and I," she shook her head again, shrugging slightly. "I thought it was a chance to start over. To not be The Slayer anymore." She looked down for a moment, then frowned as the growing fear and worry she could feel coming from Faith broke through her own memories. "In a way I was right, I guess."

"What way?" Faith asked quietly.

"It was a chance to start over. New home, new town, new school, new friends." Buffy smiled, sighing softly. "But I'll always be The Slayer. I tried to ignore it a few times. When Merrick first told me. When I came to Sunnydale. When I went to LA this summer." After a moment of silence, she shook her head again. "But I couldn't forget. Couldn't ignore it. A part of me _is_ The Slayer now, you know? I sense a vamp and—"

"Ya gotta stake it," Faith cut in softly, nodding her agreement.

"Yeah, I could ignore it for a little while, but as soon as I actually knew for sure that someone was in trouble," Buffy sighed. "I _have_ to help them."

Again, Faith nodded. "I know. I let the fear take over after K-Kakistos killed Diane. But there was always this voice in the back of my head that wanted to turn around and fight. Slay. Avenge." Then she shrugged, "But even six years of training as a potential and a few months as the—A Slayer wasn't enough to beat back the part of me that spent the first eight years of my life runnin' and hidin' from scary things."

"Faith," Buffy shook her head, raising an eyebrow again when the brunette's eyes met hers. "What's the first rule of Slaying, again?"

The younger Slayer nodded, smiling slightly at the gentle reprimand. "Don't die."

Buffy nodded, before smiling slightly as she turned to a slightly more pleasant topic. "That was nice work back there, by the way. With the shaft. Where'd you get it, anyway?"

Faith laughed, "The old bastard threw me through it. Made his own stake."

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Friday, September 20, 1996**_

Charlie sighed as he glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last half-hour before looking at his cell phone, which he'd placed in its charger on the opposite side of the room from his desk after he'd left a second voicemail on Annie's phone. A part of him really didn't like knowing that Annie could be in danger right now—as she was going after Kakistos—but a much larger part, as he'd told her, hated the idea of not knowing. Still, knowing that didn't make waiting for her call any easier. Technically, he knew that she planned to call before going to bed, which for her generally wasn't any time before midnight. Still, as he'd already called her cell three times since sundown and left two voicemails, he was hoping she'd call back sooner if she got the chance.

_*RING**RING*_

The mathematician half-jumped, half-fell out of his desk chair, stumbling as the wheels that generally made the piece of furniture so convenient slid away from his intended destination and nearly took him with them. A moment later his phone was in his hand and he fumbled to hit the green button that would allow him to answer the call. "H-Hello?"

"_Hey Buddy, how are you?_"

Charlie blinked, unable to keep the disappointment he felt at it not being Annie from rising up, though it was slightly suppressed by the joy he always felt at hearing from his brother. "D-Don? Uh, hi." Of course, now he had to wonder exactly what their mother had said to his older brother to get Don to call him twice in one week.

"_Hi. Mom told me you got the job at Cal-Sci. Congratulations._"

"Oh, uh, thanks." Charlie replied, smiling slightly at the thought that this was all it took to get his brother to call. After all, Charlie had set his one of his life-goals on a professorship at Cal-Sci when he and Don were still in high school. It was nice to think his big brother actually remembered that. As he turned back towards his desk, Charlie's eyes went across the nearby clock again and he flinched. "Uh, Don. I'm sorry but d-do you think I could call you back?" Disappointment at the idea of cutting his most recent contact with his brother short sent a burst of inspiration through his brilliant brain. "Or I could call you on the house phone! Yeah. Could I? I-I'm kinda expecting an important call on my cell."

"_This late?_" Don asked, his voice a little skeptical before Charlie could almost hear him shake his head. "_Never mind. Yeah, sure. You remember my new number?_"

"Don, have I ever forgotten a phone number? Or any number, for that matter?" the mathematician asked, unable to suppress the smirk that crossed his face as he said this, amused by his brother's slip.

Don laughed, "_No, not as far as I know. Though I plan on correcting that as soon as you turn twenty-one. Even you shouldn't be able to do math after a night of drinking._"

Charlie's face twisted a little as a frown at the thought of not being able to do math battled a smile at the idea his brother had planned on doing something with him in the future. More then a year-and-a-half away, and therefore something he probably hadn't made any serious plans for and was therefore likely to forget, but it was the thought that mattered. "Ha ha," he shook his head, a smile winning out. "So I'll call you back in a few minutes?"

"_Sure, Chuck. Bye._"

"Don't call m—" Charlie stopped as the 'click' of his brother hanging up was immediately followed by a dial tone, rolling his eyes as he shook his head and hurried out of his room, headed for the phone in the living room downstairs. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he blinked as he saw his mother cutting across the front yard, apparently having come that way from the garage. A frown cut across his face as he hurried to the front door, the innate fear he felt at seeing his mother outside after dark so near where he'd been attacked by vampires cutting through the part of his brain that knew _The Watch_ hadn't seen vampires in Pasadena—that _Annie_ hadn't seen vampires in his area of Pasadena—since the night Charlie, himself, was attacked.

His mother started slightly as he opened the door for her while she was coming up the steps, before a smile lit up her face. "Thank you, sweetheart." She nodded as she moved inside and let him close the door behind her, before nodding to the cell phone clenched in his hand. "Expecting a call?"

Charlie blinked down at his hand, before sighing and forcing the tense muscles to relax as he nodded, looking back up to meet his mother's smiling face. "Yeah. Annie's supposed to call soon. A-Actually," he nodded towards the nearby house phone, situated for convenience next to the couch. "I was gonna call Don back—he just called me—on the house phone. 'Cause I want to keep my phone, uh, free."

Margaret Eppes laughed, smiling brightly. "My, aren't we popular tonight?" she shook her head as she opened a drawer of the table nearest the piano, setting the notebook she'd been carrying inside before closing it and moving back to him, gently pulling his head down slightly to place a kiss on his forehead. "Well, I'm gonna head to bed. Tell your brother, and Annie, I said 'hello,' all right?"

"Sure, Mom," Charlie nodded, smiling as he watched her move up the stairs before hurrying over to the couch, forcing himself to set his cell phone down on the nearby table before picking up the house phone and dialing his brother's number.

The phone rang only once before his brother picked up, "_Eppes._"

Charlie chuckled at the official-sounding greeting. "Also Eppes," he offered, shaking his head as his brother laughed.

"_Hey, Charlie. Sorry, habit._" Don laughed, before asking. "_So you're expecting a call? Everything all right?_"

"Oh, y-yeah," Charlie blinked, shaking his head as he forced the worry he was still feeling for Annie out of his voice. Worry that had increased, for some reason, a little over an hour before sundown. Maybe because he knew that was when they were supposed to be striking? "S-Sorry. A friend of mine's supposed to call tonight. I, uh," he shrugged slightly, wincing as he noticed his voice sounded a lot more worried then he'd originally intended. "I just didn't want to miss her call."

"_You sure everything's all right, Buddy?_" Don asked, and Charlie winced again at the worry he heard in his brother's voice, proving that he hadn't been successful in keeping his worries out of his own.

"Y-Yeah, Don," Charlie shook his head, telling himself that the strike had to be over by now, and if anything had actually happened to Annie surely their empathetic bond would have told him. "Everything's fine. I-I'm, uh, I'm kinda wondering why you're calling me twice in one week, but—"

"_Something wrong with a guy calling his little brother?_"

"No," Charlie shook his head again, before sighing. "But usually you're, uh, too busy, I guess. Which is okay," he hurried to reassure the federal agent before the older man could say anything. "I-I know your job's important—"

"_But family's important too, bro,_" Don cut in, a distinct note of something—sadness, regret, maybe both—in his voice. "_I'm sorry I haven't called more._"

The mathematician shook his head again, before firmly insisting. "Don't be. You were busy. And so was I, most of the times you called Mom and Dad."

Silence stretched over the line for several seconds before Don sighed, "_Yeah, I guess._"

Suppressing a sigh of his own, Charlie tried to change the topic. "So, uh, how have you been?"

"_Good. Fugitive Recovery's a lot more interesting then the desk in Detroit,_" Don told him, echoing similar sentiments he'd expressed in their last phone call.

Charlie laughed, "Yeah, you said that before."

"_Did I?_" Don laughed, before continuing in distinctly teasing tone, "_So, 'her', huh?_"

Charlie blinked, before groaning as he realized what his brother was hinting at, shaking his head as a blush rose to his face. "She's just a friend!"

"_Uh huh, sure. This 'friend' got a name?_"

Charlie rolled his eyes, "Yes, I already told you about her. Annie's supposed to call me tonight, tell me how school's going and, uh, stuff."

He could almost hear Don frown thoughtfully, though the note of teasing never left his voice. "_This is the 'Annie' that lived with you guys this summer? That Mom and Dad were trying to set you up with?_"

Charlie rolled his eyes again, "They weren't really—"

"_Hey, you said it yourself, Buddy. Not me._" Don cut in, and now Charlie was sure he could hear a suppressed laugh behind his brother's words.

Charlie frowned, before blinking as he remembered he had, in fact, implied that. "Oh, I did, didn't I? Well..."

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_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 20, 1996**_

Buffy smiled, shaking her head slightly as closed her bedroom door behind her, hearing Faith's close a little further down the hall. Slipping out of the light sweater she'd been wearing she tossed it towards her laundry hamper, knowing it would land inside without looking, just as the articles of clothing that followed would. She hadn't missed since she'd become The Slayer. After sliding her PJ's on, she stopped at her desk to take her cell phone out of its charger and turn it on before hurrying to the bathroom to brush her teeth. The pot roast her mom had had waiting for them had been perfect, the chocolate chip cookies were great. and the chick flicks she'd rented for the night were hilarious. And thanks to Slaying Buffy and Faith didn't have to worry about the calories—in fact thay had to worry much more about not eating enough—but she wasn't willing to trust her teeth to Slayer healing, or her breath, so all of the chocolatey goodness had to go.

She returned a few minutes later, teeth freshly brushed, flossed and rinsed, and was surprised to see the view screen of her cell phone blinking at her, which meant she had a voicemail from when it was off. Opening it, she raised an eyebrow as the view screen told her she'd missed three calls from Charlie and had two voicemails.

With a sigh she realized he must have been worried about her and Faith going up against Kakistos this afternoon. She'd known it would probably happen when she told him, but had decided she didn't want him to be caught by surprise if the worst happened. It hadn't been likely, with all the back-up the Council had sent, and Faith, but it was still possible. And still far more likely then it was on the regular patrols when she dusted a few fledglings a night.

_*RING* *RING*_

"_Annie? Are you okay?_" was the genius's demanding greeting, blurted out in a single breath, making the Slayer smile and shake her head.

"Hi, Charlie. I'm fine. How are you?"

"_G-Good, uh, good. I'm good. Are you okay?_" Charlie repeated his question, anxiety apparently overriding his short-term memory.

"I'm fine, Charlie, really," Buffy laughed, smiling slightly though she still felt a bit guilty, since she was the cause of his distress. "You keep this up and I won't be able to call you ahead of time, I'll be too worried about making you worry too much."

"_Worry_ _too—Annie, you could have died!_"

"Yeah. We're all mortal, Charlie. We all die evenutally." Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "Only difference is I'm probably gonna go out fighting some day sooner then anyone would hope."

"_Annie—_"

"But hey, a few more months and I will have made it to my third year as The Slayer. That's something, right?"

Charlie was quiet for several moment, before his quiet reply came over the line. "Yeah_. Yeah it is._"

After several moments of silence, Buffy sighed again. "Charlie, it's not like I can just give this up. I've tried, remember? Twice. It _doesn't_ work. More innocent people get hurt or die. I become depressed and/or stir-crazy. And even if I _was_ somehow able to stop Slaying entirely, it would follow me. Faith was the newbie, and Kakistos followed her half-way across the country. Lothos came after me when I was first Called. And each Big Bad I slay, each day I survive, kinda makes me more of a trophy to any demon or vamp that thinks they can take me. They'd come after me."

"_I know, but I can't help worrying. You're—_" Charlie sighed as he continued. "_You're my best friend, Annie._"

Buffy's smile was a touch sad, "I'm really not the best person to befriend Charlie. My friends tend to get hurt."

"_Well that's life, isn't it?_" Charlie pointed out softly. "_Like you said, we're all mortal, all vulnerable. I could be hit by a car tomorrow, or HXXl, my brother's an FBI Agent, hasn't been one that long but some of the criminals he goes after could, potentially retaliate against his family. That's probably more likely then one of your enemies coming after me, isn't it? Since I live over a hundred-miles away from you?_"

"I guess," Buffy shook her head, thinking for a moment before forcing her thoughts away from the frightening prospect of Charlie being hurt to a less painful subject. "So when are you gonna start your Krav Maga classes with Gunn?" She asked, feeling a bit better about the idea since she'd talked to Gunn that afternoon, when he'd fortunately been at _The House_ before Buffy had to leave to slay Kakistos.

"_Uh, some time next week, I think. Maybe the week after that. Gunn was going to take a few refresher courses at the Y', to make sure he knows the basics well enough to teach them. Though he says what he'll be teaching me and the other members of The Watch won't be quite the same thing._"

Buffy blinked, "How so?"

"_Well, normal Krav Maga is specifically designed to get you out of dangerous situations—normal dangerous situations. Uh, the kind my brother might deal with, not—_"

"The kind Gunn and I deal with," Buffy nodded. "Makes sense." Then she frowned and laughed slightly, "Maybe Faith and I should try taking some normal martial arts classes. All of the training we have, or at least everything Giles and Merrick have taught me was for fighting vamps and demons."

"_Uh, w-wouldn't your strength be a problem? And your speed? And, well—_"

"All of our super-powers?" The Slayer shrugged. "Maybe. I'd have to ask Giles. I'm really not sure how our powers actually work. I mean, I'm always stronger then a normal girl my size, but when I'm fighting—I swear I get stronger. Faster. I mean, I can kick a vamp through a stone wall if the fight's long enough and if I'm mad enough, but I don't normally rip doors off walls. Does that make sense?"

"_Yeah. It does._" Charlie was quiet for another long moment before he continued, his voice thoughtful. "_Maybe it has something to do with adrenaline._"

Buffy frowned again, "Is that a natural thing? My powers are mystical."

"_But it stands to reason that they'd be affected by your body's natural chemistry. Adrenaline is the fight or flight hormone. It's your body's short-term reaction to extreme stress, like anger or, most often, fear. When you feel threatened your adrenal glands release it, causing an adrenaline rush: extra energy. Maybe the, uh, magic that makes you stronger in fights just increases that, or works off it._"

"Um, I, uh, guess?"

Charlie was silent for a long moment before he asked, "_Annie, you did pass the test for your Biology and Chemistry classes, right? That's why you're in Physics now?_"

Buffy grimaced. "This is biology and chemistry?"

"_Yes, this is biochemistry. How did you pass the test if—_"

"Um, I passed Biology last year with Willow's help, and for I just had to take a test for Chemistry last week. A-And Mr. McGowan was actually really nice about the test. He had me study a few chapters in the book, and then I took the test. It was short, too. Just a lot of multiple questions and a few short answers. And an essay."

"_And you didn't cover any of this, for Chemistry or in your Biology classes?_"

"Uh, well I didn't really go to most of the Biology classes. Giles had me do a lot of leg work on demons around that time of day. I turned in all the homework though, and did OK on most of the tests cause they were multiple choice. And I think Mr. Brown actually remembered when I saved him from a vamp earlier in the year, so he—"

Charlie cut in with a sigh, "_It's nice of him to remember that, but what did you cover for Chemistry?_"

"Um, a lot of laws and elements for the multiple choice, mostly. Some stuff about chemical reactions, explosives, fire an—"

"_Explosives?_"

"Uh, yeah. You know, what chemicals will blow up if you combine them? Fire hazards, and stuff like that?"

"_Yes, I get the idea. I'm just not sure why your high school chemistry teacher would want you to study that. The laws you studied were the Chemical Laws, right? The Conservation of Mass, Conservation of Energy, Boyle's Law, Charles's Law, Hess's Law?_"

"Uh, yeah. Those were some of them, I think."

"_So you know nothing about the chemistry of the human body?_" This time the soon-to-be-college-professor continued without waiting for her response, "_I suppose that was covered in the Biology classes you skipped, then. You really should study some of that, though._"

"Why?"

"_Well, you should at least be familiar with the terms when you start college—_"

"College? Why would I go to college?" Buffy frowned, shaking her head. "I can't leave the Hellmouth unguarded, Charlie. And it's not like I really have the time for a normal job. I'll probably do something. Or maybe the Council will start paying me—They should pay me for slaying, shouldn't they?"

"_Yes._" Charlie answered immediately, perhaps sensing how strongly she felt about it, or maybe agreeing with her just as strongly. It was hard to tell over the phone. "_Actually, I'm surprised the government—all governments—aren't more involved with, um, all of this._"

Buffy frowned, "What'd you mean? The cops? The ones in Sunnydale are idiots."

"_You've said that, but no, I mean on a national or maybe international level. The FBI, the NSA, maybe the military?_"

Buffy frowned, shaking her head slightly. "Well, guns are almost useless against vamps, and some demons even more so, but I guess that someone else—other then private demon hunters has to be handling some of the problems around the world, right? I mean, I patrol Sunnydale, supposedly the only active Hellmouth regularly, but there are still thousands of vamps all around the world. And demons."

"_Yeah. You might want to ask your Watcher about that._"

"Why?" Buffy frowned again, still not seeing how others fighting vampires and demons outside of Sunnydale should matter to her at all.

"_You can never have too much information, Annie. Knowledge is power, and that is largely what your war against the supernatural is all about._"

"'_My_ war against the supernatural'?" Buffy chuckled, "I don't think many would call it that."

"_Why not? Yes, your organization isn't quite as orderly as one would normally associate with modern warfare, but you, the Watchers, and all of the demon-hunters—like Gunn—in the world, even most of the magic-users, you're all protecting our world. Protecting the livelihoods and well-being of all humanity. And you're regularly punishing the 'wrong-doers,' aren't you? You're not arresting them, because they don't adhere to the rules of our society, they're a different society trying to destroy ours. E-Even though some of the vampires—like, um, Spike, wasn't it?—might side with you when the world's at stake, for the most part we're just food to them, right?_"

"Yeah," Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "But I guess I try not to think about it. I mean, war makes it sound like such a big thing. More then the occasional, possible apocalypse. And if this is a war, it's not one that's gonna end."

"_W-Well, maybe not. And Dr. Stoessinger's rationale for war doesn't really apply, not when the enemy really does embrace being evil._"

"Stoe—what?"

"_Dr. John G. Stoessinger, the author of __Why Nations Go to War__—you might read it in college. You should. If you made yourself really pay attention and think about it, you'd probably like it._" (3)

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Sure, Charlie, I'll get right on that."

"_You really should try reading occasionally, Annie. Outside of school. It's good for you, and you might learn some things about yourself and, well, the world in general._"

"And I might occasionally have some idea of what you're talking about when you talk smart?"

"_When I—oh, ha ha. Very funny. Really, Annie. You might enjoy it. I've been thinking since I first found out about, um, all of this. And I have a lot to think about. For instance, many psychologists have argued that human beings are inherently violent, and that violence is suppressed in normal society, the Id is suppressed by the ego and superego._"

"Uh huh?"

"_I don't know. It just makes me wonder where the supernatural comes into the picture. I mean, if we're supposed to fight back instinctively: why do so many of the survivors of supernatural attacks forget about it? Why do they suppress it? Is the fight for survival against a very real threat just subconsciously perceived as wrong or—_"

"Is there something else at play?" Buffy finished, nodding in understanding with a sigh. "It could be the Balance that Whistler told me about. Giles' mentioned it a few times, too. Maybe that's it?"

"_Maybe._"

Buffy could almost see the deep frown that was settling across her genius-friend's face.

"_Could you..._"

"Could I what, Charlie?" Buffy asked after he trailed off, though she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him to finish.

"_Could you get me some data on this 'Balance'? The Watchers Council must have records of some kind. And I can ask the covens here in LA for more._"

"Uh, sure. I guess," Buffy replied, frowning as her gut violently rejected the thought while her mind told her that giving Charlie information to work with could only be a good thing. Even if he didn't find anything, at least it would distract him from worrying about her. Hopefully. She shook her head to clear it before admitting, "You just want stuff about 'The Balance' or—"

"_No. Well, that too. But what I really want is statistics. How many Slayers have been Called in the last hundred years? How long did each of those Slayers survive? When and where were they Called? How many vampires and demons did they slay? How often did they slay? Where did they slay? Did the Council send them there, or why were they there? And how many people have been turned into vampires in the last hundred years? How many were killed by vampires? How many were killed by demons? Um, do vampires and demons fight and/or kill each other? If so, why, and how often? And—_"

"So basically everything I can possibly get from the Watchers on Slayers, vampires and demons?" Buffy interrupted, unable to keep a deep frown from settling on her face at the thought. "Charlie, I don't think that's _possible_. I mean: one, I'm not sure the Council would just give me that kind of info. Two, even if they do—if they're anything like Giles they're total technophobes, and everything is in notebooks scattered around the world. Yeah, they probably have a lot of stuff stored in merry old England, but—"

"_Just get me what you can, Annie. __Please__." _He continued quickly, before she could reply._ "Even something like how the Watchers might search for demons and vampires. Maybe some things I could look for in news archives, or—_"

"Oh, that's easy. For vamp attacks, at least. Exa—Exsan—sang—bleeding to death. People bleeding to death, barbeque forks, um, increases in missing persons and crimes. Gangs on PCP. Giles is always looking through the Sunnydale papers for that."

"_PCP? You mean phencyclidine?_"

"Um, if you say so."

"_It's a drug that's supposed to block out pain and can cause extreme shifts in behavior, hallucinations, euphoria, and it can lead to suicidal, homicidal and generally destructive urges, I believe. It can still be used for some medical purposes under extremely limited circumstances, but I don't why that would matter to the Watchers._"

Buffy sighed again, "For some reason that's what people usually blame vampire attacks on, especially if no one is really hurt, just scared. They yell 'gang members on PCP.'"

"_Well, that doesn't make sense to me, but I'll look for it anyone. They're the experts. I'm just the lowly mathematician._"

Buffy blinked at the sudden shift in mood. "'Lowly'? I'd never call you 'lowly,' Charlie."

"_Tell Don that,_" the mathematician snorted, making Buffy blink again.

"Your brother, Don, you mean?"

"_Yeah._"

"What'd he do?"

Charlie sighed, "_Nothing, it—_"

"**Charlie**, you wouldn't be upset over nothing. Just tell me."

After a long moment of silence the older teenager finally relented. "_It's really not that important. I just offered to help him with a case he's working on in Fugitive Recovery and he,_" Charlie sighed. "_He said it had nothing to do with numbers. Said if there was something about money, or patterns he might ask for my help. He might ask. But chasing a fugitive has nothing to do with numbers._"

Buffy winced, well aware of how Charlie would react the suggestion that his math couldn't describe and/or help with everything. "W—"

"_I could help him! I really could. It's not like I'm trying to do his job for him, I'd just help by cutting back on the work he has to do. I—_"

"Like you did for me." Buffy cut in gently, nodding.

Again, Charlie sighed. "_Yeah. Like that. I helped, didn't I? I wasn't trying to get in your way, I just—_"

"You were helpful, Charlie. Way beyond what the Watchers Council ever has been." Buffy cut in again, her voice gentle.

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Friday, September 20, 1996**_

Charlie nodded after a moment of silence, a small smile crossing his face at the sincerity he heard—and was pretty sure he _felt_—from Annie. "Well, I'm always glad to help."

"_I know. So you want me to—Actually, why don't you send me a list of questions, stuff I can try to get from Giles in the next few weeks, and I'll work from that, okay?_"

Again, Charlie nodded his smile growing. "Sure. That'd work. Um, and if you really want to take classes of some kind in martial arts, you could probably take something like Yoga or Pilates first, those kind of patterns might be good. And I could ask the covens for help. Maybe they have more meditations you could work on to get better control of your powers, or I don't know, something like that?"

"_Yeah. That's be great, Charlie. Thanks._" Annie was quiet for another long moment before she asked. "_So, how's big brother doing, any way? Other then hunting convicts?_"

"U-Uh, he's good, I think." Now Charlie frowned, "Actually we mostly talked about me when he called. I asked him a few things but he kept redirecting me. I know he told Mom he wasn't seeing anyone, but he said he's gone on a few good dates recently. But he's been working a lot, too. You wouldn't think fugitive hunting would be that busy—I mean we don't really hear about a lot of prison breaks in the news, right? But I guess he goes after people who break their parole and stuff like that, too. It's definitely a full-time job."

"_But he likes it._"

"Yeah. I-I think so. Not like he liked baseball in high school and college, but he's making a difference now. I think that's what he likes."

"_I can relate to that,_" Annie murmured, and Charlie could almost see a small smile crossing her face. "_It's the people I save that make being the Slayer okay. Most of the time, any way._"

Charlie closed his eyes for a second, firmly pushing the ill feelings he still got from the very idea of Annie putting herself in danger away before he cleared his throat and replied, hoping he sounded more upbeat then he felt on the subject. "Yeah, I get that." He smirked slightly as a memory chose that moment to jump to the forefront of his mind. "Though you didn't react all that well to the thanks from the people we helped escape from Ken's Hell, not too long ago."

"_Well, yeah, Charlie. I'm used to would-be victims saying thanks before they run off and forget about what happened to them. Suddenly being thanked and treated like a hero by that many people—how many was it, again?_"

"Five-hundred-twenty three." Charlie rattled off the numbers with the kind of ease most would only associated with remembering their own name. "Two-hundred-and-three of which soon after relocated to a neighboring dimension with Lorne's help and thirty-seven of which have since left LA. But almost three-hundred of them stayed here in LA to help with _the Watch_ and _the House_, and more of the older victims have come to us and the covens for help since then."

"_Yeah, well sorry if I was little overwhelmed when more then five-hundred people decided to thank me. And all of them were still treating me like some kind of superhero the last time we stopped by the House, just before I came back to Sunnydale. It's a little unnerving._"

Charlie smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I can't say I reacted well to the math-community's response to The Eppes Convergence when I published that paper two years ago. Most of the peers that I don't know well still treat me like I'm—I don't know, a rock star, or something like that."

"_You're a celebrity in the math-world._" He could hear clear amusement in Annie's voice. "_Makes sense. From what Dr. Fleinhardt was saying the two times I met him, you usually don't just think outside the box when it comes to advanced mathematics, for you: there is no box._"

"There's a box," Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe mine is just a bit bigger then most peoples, but it's there."

Annie also laughed again, "_Oh, and how much bigger might your box be?_"

"Oh I don't know. A year ago, I might have said anything in the universe was at least to some extent in the grasp of applied mathematics. But now I know about demons, magic and alternate dimensions, so I'm gonna have to rethink that sentiment. I'll let you know."

"_You do that,_" Annie agreed, not quite laughing but certainly speaking through a smile. After a moment of silence she added, "_Speaking of Dr. Fleinhardt, did he decide move to LA or not? He was thinking about teaching at CalSci, right? Giving up Princeton 'cause it's cold there?_"

Charlie blinked, "Well, I believe he had many reasons other then a dislike of the winter weather, but yes. He's teaching at CalSci now. He started a few weeks ago, before you left, actually. I thought I told you."

"_Maybe you did. You know how I can be. Kinda depends on when you tried to tell me._"

"I believe you were actually trying to figure out some of your algebra work at the time," Charlie smiled, shaking his head before sighing again. "Anyway, I already started taking lessons with some of the coven leaders, and I'll be meeting with them the day after tomorrow, so I'll let you know what they say after that, okay?"

"_Sure. And you'll email me all your research-stuff soon?_"

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Charlie smiled, shaking his head as he continued. "What about you? Any plans for the weekend?"

"_Wil' wanted to go to the film festival with me and Faith tomorrow, so I'm kinda looking forward to that._"

"Only 'kinda'?"

"_Well, I kinda have this sneaking suspicion that Wil's still trying to set me up with a guy from school._"

Charlie suppressed a frown at that, a part of him not liking the idea in general while the more logical part recognized that while it would undoubtedly be a good thing for Annie to move on, it wasn't very considerate of her friends to push it. Especially since none of them had said a word about the Angel-Angelus fiasco since her return. Or anything about her time in LA. "And you don't like him?" he asked, not entirely sure how to continue this kind of conversation, but hoping that was an okay question.

"_No, well—he's nice and sweet and normal—_"

Charlie's frown deepened as he realized where this thought was going, "And completely innocent of the supernatural world?"

Annie was quiet for a long moment before she replied, "_Almost painfully so. I mean, I start dating a guy like that: someone with no experience in fighting of any kind, monsters—you know anything. Isn't my dating him kind of like painting a target on his head for vamps?_"

"I suppose," Charlie reluctantly agreed, seeing the logic of her argument but not liking the probably outcome. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't date, Annie."

"_I guess._" Annie agreed, and then was quiet for another long moment before she continued. "_I tried to date a normal guy in Sunnydale, you know. Before I started dating Angel._"

"Oh?"

"_Yeah. His name was Owen. And I think he was kinda an adren-a-what's it called?_"

"Adrenaline?"

"_Yeah, I think he was kinda addicted to that. Giles got nabbed by a bunch of vamps while I was on my first date with Owen, so I had to go rescue him. Owen followed me and was knocked out that time. The next day he wanted to make it a regular thing, said that 'almost being killed made him feel more alive.'_" Annie sighed, "_I knew that if I let him follow me around all the time, he was gonna eventually get himself killed. It's why I usually don't let even Willow, Xander, Oz and Cordelia help out with patrolling._" (4)

"So you broke it off?"

"_Yeah. And he was killed by a vamp like two weeks later. He'd been breaking into morgues, and he found one where a new vamp was rising. Didn't seem to get that the only reason he wasn't killed the first time was—_"

"Because you were there."

"_Yeah._" Annie sighed again.

"That still doesn't mean you shouldn't date, Annie."

Again, the Slayer was quiet for several long seconds before she quietly replied, "_Maybe. But I really think it means I shouldn't date someone that knows nothing about the supernatural, don't you?_"

Charlie shook his head, "I-I guess."

"'_Course, now I just have to try and find a guy that knows about the supernatural and isn't a maniac._"

Charlie chuckled in response to her amused tone, "Do you want me to start sending members of _The Watch_ down?"

"_No. I don't really want to date someone who worships the ground I walk on, Charlie._"

"There not that bad!"

"_Some of them are. And they're the ones that'd probably come running if you brought this up. No,_" Buffy sighed again. "_I'll figure something out._"

"Okay, well, keep me posted." Charlie requested, before adding. "I'll send you the research questions I need help with some time tomorrow, okay? And I'll let you know what the covens say."

"_Great._"

"Are you going to the film festival early, or—?"

"_No, I've gotta do something in the morning. So Wil and Faith agreed to go in the afternoon._"

"Oh, well, have fun okay? And stay safe."

"_I will, Charlie. You too._"

"Oh, by the way, my Mom and Dad say 'hi.'"

"_Tell them I say 'hi,' back._"

"Okay."

"'_Night, Charlie._"

"Goodnight, Annie," Charlie smiled, before hanging up and glancing at the clock, blinking in surprise. Eleven o'clock was really very early for Annie to turn in for the night. Then he shook his head, figuring that if the Council had some kind of special vampire-hunting team in town that night, both Slayers figured they were okay taking the night off after staking Kakistos. They both certainly deserved the break. Though a part of him he couldn't really define didn't think the Watchers would agree.

With a sigh he set his phone down on his desk and started getting ready for bed himself, knowing one or both of his parents would have something to say about it if they caught him up after midnight with no reason. Despite the fact that he was nineteen years old. Maybe he really should look into an apartment near the campus, moving out might make his parents a little less coddling, and it wasn't like he couldn't come home regularly anyway. Charlie shook his head at the twinge of horror he felt at the very thought, knowing it really wasn't normal, but not wanting to think about it too much. He blinked as he realized he'd been standing at his desk for an extra several minutes and made himself actually start getting ready for bed.

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_**Angel's Mansion, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, September 21, 1996**_

Buffy was surprised by how strange the mansion seemed. How much friendlier it looked in the early morning light especially without Acathla or Angelus there. Although she'd visited Angel a few times during the day, she'd normally seen him at night. And this wasn't even his place then. This was the place Angelus chose, which she now only thought of as Angel's because she knew he'd been Angel during his very last moments here. Before she'd killed him.

She shook her head, sighing as she made her way to the center of the entry hall, where she remembered Acathla had been standing a few months before—the last place she'd seen Angel standing.

In the back of her mind she wondered where Acathla was now. If Giles had already cast his spell to permanently seal Acathla away and somehow gotten rid of the petrified-demon. But at the moment she really didn't care. She wasn't here for Acathla, she was here for Angel.

She looked down at her left hand for a moment, unclenching her fist to stare at the beautiful ring Angel had given her months before. After several long seconds, she closed her eyes tightly and her fist clenched around the Claddagh* ring again, before she forced her eyes and fist open again, slowly kneeling. After taking and releasing a deep breath, she set the ring on the ground and stared at again for several long moments before forcing herself to rise and back away several steps. (5)

Then Buffy took a deep breath before choking out a barely audible, "_Goodbye_," she turned and walked out of the mansion. A single tear slid down her face as she locked the front door and closed it behind her.

_**End of Chapter 3: Siblings – Part III.**_

**

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**

AN: Well, I finally reached the end of this part of

**A Call Away****! Yay! ^_^**

**Seriously, this part just did not want to end. I was planning on **_**Siblings**_** being two-parts, about twenty-five pages each. It ended up being roughly seventy-seven pages. Which probably means my outline for this story might need a little bit of tweaking, but I guess we'll see.**

**Anyway, I'm still looking for any help that can be offered on channeling Charlie—specifically the math he might use. What I'm mostly doing at this point is watching old episodes of **_**NUMB3RS**_** and then trying to figure out how the math Charlie uses in them might fit into the **_**BUFFY**_** series: any help on that front would also be nice. I can't guarantee I'll use everything that's suggested, but my muses always appreciate help. And on the other side of the coin, any help with the actual math would be great too. I'm pretty good with metaphors, so if I understand the math even a little I should be able to run with it, but as I said in the previous chapter, I haven't really taken any math since high school. Seriously, the two classes I needed to take for my major I turned in all the homework, but barely paid any attention to the professors during class. I was in the back of the classroom, playing games on my laptop or answering emails—along with about a quarter of the class. I got a B on the midterm I didn't study for and an A on the final, which I only studied for because my roommate needed a study-buddy. And again, this was all because the math and science classes I took at my high school were a LOT harder. I think I came out of those classes with headaches at least twice a week and my peers and I really weren't kidding when we said we had at least six hours of homework a night. That's why almost everyone took the option of dropping gym in tenth grade so that we could have two study halls every day. But that's kind of off topic, isn't it? Anyway, any help anyone can offer on either front would really be appreciated.**

**Comments and constructive criticism are still wonderful, wonderful things that are highly welcome, so please REVIEW!!!**

**And in case you didn't notice this note in the last chapter: If you do notice something I need to work on and mention it, please tell me if you're okay with me contacting you for help or not, as I might want to follow up on it.**

**Now for comments from within the chapter:**

**(1) I think most would get Miss Glenn's joke, but if you didn't: "der Fuhrer" is a reference to Snyder, essentially comparing him to Adolf Hitler. The whole point of which was basically that since Buffy's doing better in school, her teachers are nicer to her and it becomes more obvious that they don't like Snyder much either. Cause, really, who would?**

**(2) I doubt anyone actually needs to be told who Sineya is, but if you've forgotten, she was the First Slayer. For more information, go here: (**.com/wiki/Sineya**).**

**(3) ****Why Nations Go to War**** by John G. Stoessinger is a real book, wherein "the author points out that both sides will claim that morality justified their fight. He also states that the rationale for beginning a war depends on an overly optimistic assessment of the outcome of hostilities (casualties and costs), and on misperceptions of the enemy's intentions." Charlie's comment on this is basically that while Buffy's fight against the supernatural really should be considered a war—which I believe it is in the last season, but no mention of it is really made before that—it is not war as Dr. Stoessinger describes it because what Buffy is fighting really is **_**Evil**_**, and embraces that fact. Now, the 'forces of darkness' may believe what they're doing is right by their morality—for the sake of being evil, or something like that—but for the most part they do recognize themselves as evil. Not good. I hope that makes sense, and if you want more information, try Wikipedia. I thought most of this up after reading the article: (**.org/wiki/War#Tradeoff_analysis_theories**).**

**(4) References to S1E5 '**_**Never Kill a Boy on the First Date**_**.'**

**(5) For information on Claddagh rings, I recommend either watching the episode where Angel gave it to Buffy again (S2E13 '**_**Surprise**_**'), or going to Wikipedia: (**.org/wiki/Claddagh_ring**).**

**And that's all for now. Hope it was worth the wait. **

**Bye! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 4: Within & Without.**_


	5. Chapter 4: Within & Without P1 of 2

**Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: Well, I really wanted to get this part out all in one chapter, but it's not cooperating. Plus I haven't really had as much free time to work on it since school started again and didn't want to leave this story hanging for too long. When classes aren't in session and all I have to worry about is working thirty-five to forty hours a week I have a lot more time to write then I do with fifteen hours of classes plus hours of reading for said classes, etc. I'll still be trying to update fairly regularly, but it might be closer to every other week from now on.**

**Thanks again to **_**NeverTooOld**_ **for beta-reading. **

**And ****First Meeting**** won one of the **_**Crossing Over Awards**_** for 2008! ACS' Big Reveal. I was a little disappointed at not getting Best Crime TV, but I didn't think it really fit into that category anyway. It was fine under Best TV, but as soon as they switched it to the more focused category of Crime TV it didn't really fit. Some of the later stories in the series—when we get into NUMB3RS—will, but the first story was more about Buffy and Charlie getting to know each other. Still, an awards an award, so many thanks to ACS and everyone else! :-D**

**And now on with the story! (After the superfluous-warning.)**

**Warnings: Spoilers for Buffy Season 3, Episode 4, "Beauty and the Beast." **

* * *

**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

**Chapter 4: Within & Without**

**Part I**

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_**Sunnydale, California – Wednesday, September 25, 1996**_

Buffy sighed as she led the way into yet another cemetery, "And here we have Sunnydale graveyard number eleven."

"I thought the last one was thirteen?" Faith asked, frowning slightly.

"Oh it was," the older Slayer nodded, partially in response to the question and partially in approval, as the younger Slayer's attention was divided like hers, between their conversation and the graveyard, wary eyes scanning the area despite the fact that both their Slay-dar's were picking up nothing. "According to Wil' that was the thirteenth oldest cemetery in Sunnydale, this one is five years older." She jerked her heard toward the south-west. "Number twelve is on the other side of town, by the ocean."

"How many graveyards are there in Sunnydale?"

"This is the newest. But I think they're startin' fourteen over there," Buffy replied, pointing towards a partially cleared section of the nearby woodland.

"Man," Faith shook her head. "Di said Sunnydale was bad, but I guess I just didn't get how bad."

"I'm pretty sure this is the only town in America that regularly has funerals at night, 'cause there aren't enough hours in the day, even with forty-three churches and at least twice as many priests to handle them. Actually," Buffy frowned at the nearby construction site, "Maybe that's another church. Or both. I guess it could be both, couldn't it?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so." Faith shook her head slightly.

Buffy frowned as she sensed a sudden down-turn in her friend's emotions, a shift that she could actually—for one—see on the younger teen's face. "Faith?"

"Ya got a favorite?"

Buffy blinked, "What?"

"A favorite graveyard, cemetery, whatever?" Faith shrugged, "In our line of work, gotta know our days are numbered, right? Ya told anyone where you want to be buried?"

"Uh, no." Buffy shook her head, "A-Actually, I don't want to be."

"What, dead? Me neither, but—"

"No, no, I mean buried. Not that I want to die, either. But," Buffy shook her head again when Faith looked at her. "I've watched so many vamps crawl out of the ground in the last few years, and fought so many things underground," she shrugged. "I just really don't want to be there. I mean, especially on the Hellmouth. That's underground, too."

"Oh, good point," Faith winced, "So you want to be cremated?"

Buffy sighed, and shook her head again. "Not really. I'm not too fond of fire, either. But I guess that'd be better then possibly waking up underground. At least that way, if I was still human and alive I wouldn't wake up, and if I was vamped or turned into some kind of demon, the fire would kill it."

"It?"

"Well, it wouldn't be me anymore, would it? It'd be the thing that killed me."

"Huh, you'd think the Council would think of that, fit it into their rules."

"Rules?" Buffy blinked again, frowning.

"Yeah," Faith shrugged. "They've got ton's of 'em. Even a few about the remains of Slayers."

"Like what?"

"Well, for some reason, a Slayer's remains—if available—have to be buried for at least a hundred years on holy ground, like—" the younger Slayer nodded to their surroundings. "Unless the Slayer's a potential vamp or demon, then their remains have to be, uh, frozen with magic."

"What happens after a hundred years?"

"Uh, well, I guess you could will that your remains be cremated then, I think." Faith winced, shaking her head slightly. "I really didn't pay attention to those lessons. Just the basics. I only remember that one 'cause the hundred year thing seemed a little weird to me."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, her frown deepening. "And why would they freeze a Slayer-turned vamp or demon, anyway? Why not just destroy the body, get rid of the problem?"

Faith shrugged, "Ya got me, B. They've got a lotta weird rules like that."

"Wait a minute," Buffy stopped abruptly. "You've read _The_ _Slayer's Handbook_?"

"You haven't?" Faith frowned, "I thought you had to!"

"Merrick and Giles never gave it to me," Buffy grimaced. "I didn't even know about it till Kendra showed up and talked about it."

"Huh. Maybe they only make you read it when you're being trained as a Potential Slayer?" Faith suggested, still frowning slightly. "I mean, a lot of the stuff in it is mostly rules about controlling your powers, secrecy and stuff. Stuff you probably figured out by using your powers, I guess? And, uh, shouldn't we be, um, moving?"

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, before sighing as they started to move through the graveyard again, only half their attention still on the patrol. "And if you mean 'figured them out' by dodging and catching knives and running around Merrick's obstacle courses before and after hunting vamps in LA, I guess." She shook her head, before raising an eyebrow at her sister-Slayer. "Did it help?"

"What, with bein' a Slayer?" Faith shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I knew what I was and what I could do right away. I knew it meant that Kendra or you had died—for a week or two the Council wasn't sure you'd survived. So they weren't sure if my Calling had been from both your deaths or just Kendra's."

"Only a week or two? I was gone for a few months."

"Yeah, but the Council's Oracle finally prophesized your return about ten days after Kendra died, so they figure that meant you were still alive and hiding somewhere on Earth or going to find a way back from Acathla's dimension."

Buffy blinked again, "They thought I was in Acathla's dimension?"

"Well, yeah. The portal opened and you disappeared. It's not a hard jump ta make, B."

"Who's 'The Oracle,' anyway?"

"Umm, a seer that makes prophecies. Like the one about the Master's Ascension? That prophecy was made by a Council Oracle, um, in the 1800s, I think."

"Oh." Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "So he's the one that told 'em to keep me in the nut-house?"

"He—? Oh, no. The Council Oracle is always a girl. And no, she probably answered some of their questions that way, but," Faith shook her head. "She usually only gives these really twisted phrases. Like poetry, for the Council to figure out. Doesn't answer 'yes' or 'no' questions at all. I met the old one when I was eleven. Didn't understand a word she said."

"They're all girls, really?" Buffy shook her head, "Huh. I wonder why that is."

"Well, I think they really focus on the Slayer-line, so I kinda always figured that had something to do with it. Girl power, and all that."

Buffy chuckled, "Makes sense." Then she shook her head, "Course with all the stuff I'm learning about the Council, I gotta wonder how important that power is. I mean, one girl in all the world, right? Two, now."

"But it was always one, before you came along." Faith nodded. "Di—and a bunch of other Watchers—spent a few months after Kendra was called researching it. As far as the Council knows, it's never happened before."

"Well, CPR's kinda new."

"But magic's not." Faith replied, shaking her head. "Di said some of the Watchers even wanted to try seeing if they could repeat it with magic. Hey, don't look at me," she added quickly when Buffy glared. "Seein' as I'm a Slayer now I'm not too big on the idea either. 'Sides all of the Council's mages, seers and the Oracle were sure it would screw up 'The Balance.'"

Buffy frowned, "Okay, they're wanting to kill me again aside, what is that?"

"What?"

"The Balance. I've heard about it a bunch of times, but no ones explained it yet."

Faith shrugged, "It's The Balance between Good and Evil. Mystical. All I know is that they try to keep the Balance because if either side gets too powerful the other side gets a blank check. Di said it was supposedly how the Slayer-line was created. Evil was so strong then, so out-of-balance, that Good was able to create the ultimate Champion to fight for it."

"The Slayer. Us."

"Yeah."

"Against thousands of vamps and demons."

Again, the brunette shrugged. "Hey, supposedly it's gotten better. I mean, if you think about it, the Slayer was create millions of years ago. But when was the oldest-known big civilization founded?"

"Don't know, I'd guess several thousand years ago." Buffy shrugged. "But I get what you're saying. It took the Slayers million of years to clean up—"

"But they got it done. And so humanity kinda rules the Earth, with the Slayer—and the Watchers, I guess, 'cept they weren't always around—keeping the uglies under control."

"The Watchers weren't always around?" Buffy raised an eyebrow, having thought from the way both Merrick and Giles had introduced themselves that they were 'Chosen' in a similar fashion. Maybe in a vision or something, that set them down their path to the Slayer.

"No way. Like G said, they're all old families that are somehow connected to the Slayer-line. One of their ancestors was a Slayer, was saved by a Slayer or, I don't know, they found out about us somehow. Been helpin' ever since."

Buffy suppressed a snort and shook her head instead. "Hey, Faith, do you know where any of this info is? Stuff about the Council and older Slayers, I mean?"

Faith blinked at her, "Yeah. I bet G has the book."

"The book?"

"Yeah, the magic-book that all the Field Watchers get, for quick references on Slayers and demons. I think it can call up all information for the Watchers on, like, the last thousand years, or so."

Buffy stared at her a moment, not believing that finding Charlie's answers could really be that easy. "All of it?"

"Well, no. Just the basics, I think. Who the Slayers were, when they were called, who and what they fought, how and when they died. Stuff like that. For more details on kinds of demons and stuff, you'd have to look them up separately. And more info on each Slayer would be in the Watchers Diaries Archives. All of 'em are sent to London when a Slayer falls, and then I think they make a bunch of copies before sending them around the world to be stored in different places. The Field Watcher gets to keep the original, though."

"What, like a souvenir?"

"I guess," Faith shrugged. "Di's family had three of 'em, all from when her ancestors were Watching specific Slayers. M-Mine woulda been number four, if she'd survived."

Buffy winced, laying a gentle hand on Faith's shoulder for a moment, before withdrawing it. After a moment, she shook her head. "I guess the Watchers are kinda helpful. Least Giles is. But I really have trouble seeing Willow's kids or Xander's kids becoming anything like Giles."

The younger Slayer laughed, "That's a thought." Faith shook her head, "Xander's with Cordy, right?"

"Cordelia, yeah. And thank you. I really didn't need that addition to my mental image of the Watchers-to-be."

"You and Xander ever—?"

"What—No!" Buffy shook her head. "I mean, he had a slightly obsessive, hero-worship crush on me for a while. B—"

"Speaking of crushes, what're you gonna do about Mr. Puppy-Eyes?"

"Mr. Pup—You mean Scott?"

"Yeah. Plan on bringing him around here?" Faith waved the stake she was holding at the surrounding graves, "Doin' the diddy?"

"No. And kids don't do that in Sunnydale, anyway."

"Don't—"

"Not in graveyards, at least. They may be oblivious, but most of 'em aren't stupid." Buffy nodded a little ways north. "There's a smooch spot up by the woods. That's usually where they go—in cars. So they can drive off if there's trouble."

"Huh, so you gonna—"

"One, neither one of us has a car. Two, I'm really not interested in Hope."

Faith raised an eyebrow, "Really? He's quite a muffin."

"He's nice, and funny," Buffy nodded, then shrugged. "And normal."

"Ah, so Angel didn't turn you off all guys, just 'normal' guys?" Faith smirked, "Course, now I kinda wanta see what a vamps like in bed, you know. Lotta stamina, I bet."

Buffy shook her head, rolling her eyes at her friend's crudeness, "It's not that, it's just—" she shook her head and sighed again. "It's not like I want to date any kind of hell beast, it's—Look at Xander. Or Giles. The two totally 'normal' guys of the Scoobies. But Xander more then Giles, 'cause Giles can do magic and—"

"Has book-smarts."

"Yeah. Pay attention to what happens when we have the Scoobies involved with going up against big vamps or demons. I guarantee that at least six out of ten times, Xander's gonna get hurt. If he's not hurt, Willow's hurt, though Oz usually protects her now." Buffy shrugged, "It's not usually bad enough to take them to the hospital, but they don't heal overnight like we do. They limp for a few days. Sometimes a week or two. Wince. And moan."

Faith was quiet for a moment before she replied, "And you think any guy we date—"

"Is gonna have a big red X on his forehead, yeah." The older Slayer shrugged. "I guess if I met someone I thought it'd be worth the risk for, someone who knew the risk and wanted to take it, it might be one thing. But Scott doesn't know anything about us."

"Well, you don't really have to look for boyfriend-material, you know. Why not just go on a few dates every once in a while? Maybe that way you'll meet someone who is worth it." Faith raised an eyebrow again, "Unless you were hoping a human that hunts demons 'll come along and swoop you off your feet, 'cause I wouldn't hold my breath. Di said most demon-hunters avoid Hellmouths, especially this one 'cause demons and vamps are stronger here."

Buffy shook her head. "Since I became the Slayer, I've only met three guys in our age bracket that are or were available and know about me being the Slayer. Pike couldn't handle it after the first few months. Xander is no longer available and I didn't choose to tell him anyway. And I won't risk Charlie."

"That's why you gotta just go out to have fun with some of 'em. They won't mind, B. All men are beasts."

Both of Buffy's eyebrows rose. "OK. Not quite sure where that batch of cynicism came from."

"It's not cynical, I mean," Faith shook her head. "It's realistic. Every guy from manimal to Mr. "I love _The English Patient_" has beast in him. And I don't care how sensitive they act. They're all still just in it for the chase."

"That's a pretty big generalization, Faith."

"Hey, you're the one that doesn't wanna date any of 'em. Who's 'Charlie,' anyway? I don't think I've met—Vampire?"

Buffy blinked at the abrupt change in subject, a part of her a bit offended to think that Faith might be asking if Charlie was a vampire, but then the more rationale part of her brain caught the signal her Slay-dar was sending her. "Vampire."

"How 'bout first one there gets Saturday night off?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, but nodded and without a word both Slayers took off. Buffy didn't really care about Saturday night, but some part of her really wanted to get there first.

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_**Eppes House, Pasadena, California – Thursday, September 26,1996**_

Charlie yawned as he forced himself to get out of his bed. A glance at his nearby clock told him that he didn't really have to get up yet—it was only quarter of six—but he was trying to keep himself in the habit of getting up early, with one of the three classes he'd be teaching at CalSci next semester in mind. The _Intro to Mathematics_ course for undergrads and _Calculus _were in the afternoon on Monday and Wednesday, but _Statistics_ was from 8:00 AM to 9:30 AM on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Thus, he'd be getting up early on Tuesday and Thursday at the very least. And he'd probably be spending many morning hours in the tutoring center too. Plus this was around the time Annie seemed to be calling lately, so—

_*RING* *RING*_

Charlie shook his head, but smiled as he hurriedly slipped his hastily chosen shirt for the day on before grabbing his cell phone off his desk and glancing at the view screen before hitting the green button. "Hi Annie."

"_Hi Charlie._" Annie's cheery voice came over the line, before a little bit of hesitancy crept into her tone. "_I didn't wake you, did I? I thought you were up. I mean, I know we really don't have great control, but I really thought you were awake an—_"

"No, you—" Charlie tried to suppress a yawn but grimaced as he failed. "You didn't."

"_Oh, I did, didn't I? I'm sorry. I'll call back lat—_"

"No, no, Annie. Really, you didn't wake me. I got up a few minutes before you called."

"_Oh. Why?_"

Charlie rolled his eyes again. "Remember, I said I had to fix my sleeping schedule for when I start teaching in January?"

"_Oh yeah, 'cause you have an early class on Tuesday and Thursday._" He could almost see Annie nod thoughtfully. "_That still seems kinda weird to me._"

"What does?"

"_The way classes are scheduled for college. I mean, I guess it might make sense if I were there, but it looks awful confusing._"

"It's really not." Charlie chuckled. "It's just different."

"_I guess._"

Both were quiet for a moment, before Annie finally sighed. "_So, I think I can get the, um, info on Slayers and stuff. From the last hundred years, right?_"

"Really?" Charlie smiled brightly, shaking his head. "That was fast. I'm impressed. I hadn't even really started researching yet. I mean, I skimmed through a few newspaper archives a few days ago, but that's it. I was hoping to get more done this weekend."

"_Aren't you starting your lessons with Gunn soon?_"

Charlie winced, "Yeah. This afternoon at five. And tomorrow, too, apparently. I'm hoping I won't be in too much pain at the end of the week to do research. Am I being too optimistic?"

"_No!_" Annie replied quickly, her voice a bit higher then usual, and Charlie could almost see her shaking her head frantically back and forth. "_No! I'm sure you'll be fine._"

Another moment of silence hung between them, and this time Charlie sighed. "You know, I wouldn't think it was possible, but you're actually worse at lying to me over the phone then you are in person."

"_Uh-um—D-Did you the package I sent you?_"

"Package?" Charlie frowned, "no, I don't think so."

Annie sighed, "_Well, it was supposed to arrive before today. I sent it last week._" She was quiet for a moment before she asked, "_Why don't you postpone until it gets there?_"

"Why?"

"_Trust me. It'll really help._"

"Uh, O-K," Charlie shook his head after a moment's thought. "But I can't postpone again. Gunn wanted to start last week, and he's doing me a favor here, right?"

"_I could call him if you want._"

"No." the genius shook his head again. "Maybe your package'll show up this morning. Anyway, I'm sure Gunn doesn't have anything too rough planned for the first lesson. Probably just a few, um, kata's—"

"_Um, Charlie,"_ Annie cut in, "_Krav Maga doesn't have kata's to practice. You practice the moves you'd use in actual, you know, life-or-death situations."_ She was quiet for another moment, before she added. "_I mean, I've never taken any self-defense courses, just what my Watchers have taught me. But my ex, Pike, started taking them after Merrick was killed and I picked up a few things from watching him practice. Before Mom and Dad threw me in the nuthouse, anyway."_ (2)

"O-Oh," Charlie winced as all the doubts he'd had earlier about self-defense lessons rose to the forefront of his mind again. The Slayer cut in before he could say anything, probably sensing his sudden distress just as he'd felt her much more poignant trip down memory lane a few days before.

"_But, you said he's a brown-belt in Karate too, right? Maybe he'll start with that."_

"Y-Yeah, maybe." After another moment of thoughts towards his probably pain-filled evening, he shook his head and forced his mind back to the earlier part of their conversation. "But you found Council records of some kind?"

"_Uh, yeah."_ Annie confirmed, clearly surprised by his change of topic but going with it anyway_. "Faith says Giles should have a magic book that tells him stuff about the past Slayers. Who they were, what they fought, when, where, like that."_

"Really?"

"_Yeah. The only problem is that if it's magically protected—which it probably is—I won't be able to copy it."_

"So you want me to ask Constance or Deborah to visit you?"

"_And save me from weeks of typing, yeah. I figured they might like a copy for their records anyway."_

"Probably," Charlie agreed, before frowning again. "So your Watcher's just going to let you borrow this?"

"_Um, I hope so."_ Now Charlie could almost see the frown that was taking over her face. "_And I'm actually trying to be really optimistic today. I have to see Mr. Platt this afternoon."_

"Mr. Platt?"

"_Yeah, the school guidance counselor. I get to convince hum that I'm 'Miss Stable' so I can stay in school. Gotta meet him this afternoon."_

"Well I hope it goes well," Charlie offered truthfully. "The one I saw at Princeton was great. Once I learned to be honest with him, he really did help a bit."

Annie suddenly snorted, "_Uh, sure, Charlie, I'll try to open up and tell him about all of my demons. Then I'll try to call you occasionally from the asylum when the guys in white-coats drag me off."_

Charlie shook his head, "Well, at least be as honest as you can, okay? When's your meeting?"

"_Two o'clock, I think."_

"Well, give me a call later tonight, okay? Let me know how it goes."

"_Okay." _After a moment, Annie sighed again. "_Just got to school. Ooh, nice flowers."_

"What?" Charlie blinked in confusion.

"_Oh, nothing. Just a girl in the courtyard got some really nice flowers from her boyfriend."_ For some reason Charlie was sure she was frowning even before she continued. "_You know, Angel never got me flowers."_

Charlie grimaced at the depressing shift in the conversation, not quite sure what to say, so he was more then a little relieved when Annie continued on her own.

"_I gotta go, OK?"_

"Sure. Have a great day, Annie."

"_You too, Charlie. Bye."_

"Bye," Charlie was smiling as he hung up. Flowers aside, with a little luck he should be able to test his brain against the so-called Balance in just a few days time.

_0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**High School, Sunnydale, California – Thursday, September 26, 1996**_

"Buffy, hey."

Buffy blinked as she looked up, shaking her head a little to clear her thoughts as she met Faith in the hallway outside of the library. "Hey Faith. How was your day?"

"Great. How was your meeting with the shrink?"

"Actually, I kinda liked it," the older Slayer shrugged at the younger's disbelieving look. "A lot of what he said made sense."

"Well that's good, I guess."

"Yeah." After a moment, Buffy shook her head. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"G called me. Wanted us both here, now."

Buffy winced, "Can't say I like the sound of that. Come on," she turned to lead the way into the library. "Let's see what he wants."

They'd only gone a few steps into the unusually quiet library before they spotted the Scoobies. The quiet was unusual, because it wasn't peaceful with the call of research—always under ridden by the taint of the Hellmouth—no, this quiet was heavy and dismayed. And all of that Buffy's erratic empathetic abilities had an easy time immediately pinpointing on her group of friends.

Giles was the only one in a chair, while Cordelia was sitting on top of the counter, and all of the other Scoobies were huddled on the nearby stairs, looking entirely depressed. Giles was worried and not angry, but really annoyed. Cordelia was frightened and worried. Xander was worried, sad and generally unhappy. Willow was really, really worried and Oz... Just a glance at him brought on a pounding headache from all the negative emotions rolling off him.

After setting her purse down on one of the library tables, Buffy crossed her arms, "I'm afraid to ask."

All of the Scoobies looked at each other—except for Oz, who didn't consciously acknowledge her comment, just sat there with guilt and self-hatred rolling off him as he stared at the ground—before Cordelia shrugged.

"Oz ate someone last night."

"He did not!" Willow immediately insisted, glaring at the brunette.

Xander quickly tried to back the redhead up, snapping at his girlfriend, "Oz does not eat people. It's more of werewolf play. You know, I bat you around a little bit, like a cat toy."

Buffy glanced at Giles, and bit her lip when the Watcher nodded. This was _not_ good. The Watchers Council had been firmly against allowing Oz to stay on the Hellmouth—since it was likely to make his wolf much stronger then most. It had taken Giles weeks to get them to back down on that, and as incompetent as the Watchers they'd sent to help with Kakistos had seemed to her when fighting in a vampire nest: give them guns and no full moon and Oz wouldn't stand a chance. If they found out about this, she'd want to protect him, but she'd probably have to ask him to leave town. And he would. When it came down to it she knew Oz wouldn't hesitate a moment if his being here put any of them—especially Willow—at risk.

"I have harmless wolf fun," Xander added, apparently on a roll with the werewolf-defense. "Is it Oz's fault that, you know, side effect, people get cut to ribbons, and maybe he'll take a little nibble and—" he shook his head suddenly, wincing at the glare Giles had turned on him. "I'm not helping, am I?"

"No." The Watcher snapped.

"Whoa, whoa. Back up a minute." All eyes went to Faith as she shook her head and pointed to the nearby cage. "I thought Oz always went into lock-up during the full moon."

"I do," Oz confirmed quietly, and Buffy had to frown as the self-hate she could still feel coming from him didn't decrease at all.

"He—The wolf may have escaped last night," Giles explained.

"How?" Buffy asked, frowning at the perfectly intact cage that had kept the wolf contained through many full moons before this month's.

"Apparently the window was open," Giles told her.

Faith spoke up again, "But doesn't one of you—?" she pointed at the cage.

"I had to study," Willow murmured, sounding almost tearful. "So I left just before midnight."

"And I fell asleep a little while after she left," Xander sighed, his voice full of as much sorrow as Buffy had ever heard from him, before it became defensive as he added, "B-But he was asleep in the cage when I woke up at 4:30!"

"But then how do you know—?"

"Jeff Orkin, a student here, was found in the woods nearby," Giles explained, shaking his head. "And according to the news report, he was terribly mauled."

"I killed him," Oz almost chocked the words out, shaking his head.

Before Buffy could say anything Faith cut in again. "That a confession, O? You remember doin' it?"

"What—N-No!" Oz shook his head, "But—"

"But nothing. This is America, ain't it? Innocent till proven guilty, and all that," the brunette insisted with a shrug. "'Sides, even if the wolf did get out, ain't your fault. Most were's don't have any control over their actions. My old Watcher said they usually don't remember anything past the first burst of pain from when their body starts changing to when they wake up, human again."

"That is, to my knowledge," Giles nodded, "Entirely true."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "And it could still be something else, couldn't it?" she asked, almost directing all eyes to her Watcher.

"P-Perhaps. It is, of course, possible that something else entirely is behind this."

"Or another werewolf?" Oz suggested softly, and Buffy was happy to feel a little bit of hope coming from him.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, nodding. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out, okay?"

"Yes," her Watcher confirmed. Then sighed as he nodded to her. "Buffy, you should patrol the woods tonight. The others will check the morgue."

Willow nodded, "Right. We can see if it's a werewolf-kill or no not." She frowned as she glanced at her boyfriend. "B-But what about Oz?"

"Unfortunately I have some research materials I need to look at tonight, at home. Perhaps Faith…?"

"Sure, I—" Faith stopped abruptly as Oz cut her off, sounding almost horrified.

"You're making a _Slayer_ watch me?" the guitarist shook his head as he jumped to his feet, his entire body screaming self-hate and anger again. "Good we're not over reacting!" He started towards the doors, but stopped as Willow grabbed his hand.

Buffy was pleased to feel his emotions lighten again.

"OK. You know that thing where you bail in the middle of an upsetting conversation? I have to—"

"You can't, Oz." Buffy interrupted as she sensed his negative emotions rising again from the Willow-induced calm, and shook her head when the werewolf looked at her, nodding towards the nearby clock.

"Moon rise is only twenty minutes from now," Willow agreed.

Everyone winced as Oz moved towards the cage, somehow slipping his hand out of Willow's tight grip as he went. Once inside he checked the lock on the closed window, then turned back to the entrance and closed the cage, barring Willow outside with everyone else. Buffy winced as the self-hatred she could still feel from him seemed to grow as he closed the door and looked out at his girlfriend.

"Oz?" Willow murmured softly.

After a moment the older teen replied, his voice hard, "Get away from the cage."

Willow winced and Buffy winced with her as the redhead's pain rolled around the room with her boyfriend's. "What?"

"It's gonna happen soon," Oz turned away from them, walking towards the far corner of the cage as he all but growled, "_Get away from me._"

After several moments of tense, painful silence Buffy shook her head. "Okay. Guess we should get going." She glanced at Faith, "Want me to get you anything from the house?"

"No, I'm—"

"You're gonna be here through dinner, Faith. At least till, what four in the morning?"

"Five," Willow replied. "Moon set is at quarter after five tomorrow morning."

"Damn. Good thing I don't really need any beauty-sleep," Faith smirked, then shrugged at the look Buffy shot her. "I guess something for dinner'd be nice. And maybe my CD player?"

"Sure," Buffy nodded. "I'll grab that, and then I'll head out on patrol. Do you want me to take over later tonight, or—"

"Nah, I got it, B." Faith smirked. "You're the one that has to look for the new ugly. And they have to look at the body. All I gotta do is sit here and do nothin' but watch Red's boy bounce around a cage."

Buffy laughed, "Fair enough. I'll see you in about an hour?" then she nodded to the Scoobies as a whole, "And you guys tomorrow?" After receiving a bunch of "sures" and "yeahs," the eldest Slayer went over to the entrance of the cage and locked it with the key her Watcher provided, before whispering—so faintly even Faith probably couldn't hear from halfway across the room—"Don't give up, Oz. Willow believes in you. We all do." Then she nodded to the others, grabbed her backpack and left the room, a part of her _really_ hoping Charlie might have some kind of idea to help clear Oz's name.

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California - **__**Thursday, September 26, 1996**_

Charlie frowned as his cell phone rang, his frown lessening slightly as he glanced at the caller ID, and shook his head as he answered it, "Annie?" he asked let the phone rest in the crook of one shoulder while he continued rummaging through his bureau for something that'd be suitable to wear to his first self-defense class. "How did your meeting go?"

"_What? Oh, that. Right. It was okay._"

"I take it you're not calling to talk about your meeting with Mr. Platt."

"_No. I mean, it was good. He was nice and—Can we talk about that later?_" Annie sighed, "_I need your help._"

Charlie's frown deepened, and he paused in his search for pants that might be good for learning how to not be beaten up in. "Sure. What'd you need?" he asked, backing up to glance at his clock as he sat down in his desk chair. "And how important is it? I've gotta go to my class with Gunn in about forty minutes, but I can call and postpone if the world's at—"

"_No, no. It's not an apocalypse. It's just—_" Annie sighed again. "_I told you about Oz's monthly problem, right?_"

"Willow's boyfriend?" The mathematician blinked, then nodded as he remembered hearing about the other teen. "He's a werewolf, right?"

"_Yeah. Three times a month, whenever the full moon's up. And this month that's last night, tonight and tomorrow night. He um, we keep him locked up in a cage in the library when he's, uh—_"

"Dangerous?"

"_Furry and unfriendly, yeah._"

As his friend sighed again, Charlie winced as he realized the only thing that could be causing this phone call. "And something happened last night?"

"_Y-Yeah._" Annie confirmed, her voice a little shaky. "_Um. A kid was killed. A sophomore, I think. Near the school, and it—_"

"Looks like a werewolf killed him. Does someone watch—"

"_Yeah. Usually Willow or Giles stays with Oz, but they were busy last night, so Xander took over. And apparently he fell asleep. A-And the window in the cage was open. But Oz woke up in the cage. And he was there, sleeping, when Xander woke up. Can—_"

"You want me to figure out if Oz could have, uh, been responsible for the death?"

"_Yeah. Can you?_"

"What'd you know about the victim? If you can give me the exact time of death, the location, exactly when your friends were awake, I should be able to figure out something. Do you know how fast Oz is capable of moving in werewolf form?"

"_N-Not exactly. It's usually easy for me to catch him._"

"_And your top speed is thirty-five miles an hour?_" Charlie remembered, shaking his head in amusement at the memory of that calculation. "_In high heels._"

"_Yeah, that's how fast you thought I'd have to be to have run across town for—_"

"Yeah." Charlie nodded, shaking his head as he quickly wrote all the known variables down before turning to his laptop. "Is this in the local news?"

"_Yeah. The Sunnydale Times*, I think. Th-They have a webpage. Willow said—_" (4)

"I've got it," Charlie cut in, nodding as he rapidly read through the headlines, before opening the link to the relevant article. After a moment he shook his head. "There's not much here."

"_Yeah, Willow and the others are gonna go to the morgue to check out the body tonight._"

Charlie blinked, swallowing a small amount of nausea at the thought as he glanced at the reporters vague but still horrifying description of the victim's injuries. "You do that?"

"_Sometimes,_" Annie confirmed.

"And the coroners just let you do that?"

"_That would be why they're going late at night, Charlie. The coroner won't be there._"

"What about a diener*? They might still be working." (5)

Annie snorted, and he was sure she was shaking her head. "_Not in Sunnydale. Anyone stupid enough to work a late shift at the morgue here probably wouldn't survive more then a few weeks, maybe a month or two if they're really lucky and I'm working overtime._" She paused, then asked. "_What's a die—dine—what you said?_"

"Diener," Charlie repeated shaking his head. "They work with the coroner. The coroner examines the body, the dierner takes care of it."

"_Oh. OK. Well, they might pull late shifts outside of Sunnydale, but they're not gonna do it here. And I can't think of a reason they'd want to stay late, surrounded by dead bodies, anyway._"

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head even though the idea didn't appeal to him either, but, "The work has to get done. Someone has to do it." He sighed as he hit 'print' to print out the article, before closing the window and glancing back at his equations. "I still don't have enough to work with here. Do you think it's worth hacking into the police department?"

"_No. They're—_"

"Incompetent idiots, yes, you've said that. You know, there could be some good people working there." He suggested mildly, even as half of his focus was on his notebook as he quickly ran through some expressions and equations to figure out what he could tell her with what he had, and what else he needed. "I mean, how many have you met?"

"_Not many,_" Annie agreed easily enough, and again he knew she was shaking her head. "_But they don't do anything in town, except occasionally get in my way. Or worse, try to arrest me or shoot me. 'Bout the only useful think I've seen one of 'em do was suggest—to the newspaper—that Sunnydale citizens be 'vigilant,' I think was the word he used, in the evening and at night. I felt bad when I had to stake him a week later._"

Charlie stopped writing, frowning as he demanded, "You staked a police officer?"

"_He was a vampire!_"

"Why would a vampire tell—"

"_No, no. He was—a vamp got him. Turned him into a vampire after he said that. Then I had to stake him._"

"Oh." Charlie nodded, before shaking his head as he sighed and finished up the too short equations he'd been running through. "Okay."

"_OK?"_

The mathematician nodded again, "I just need to know the exact time of death. And the times your friends know Oz was in the cage." He finished, nodding to himself as he quickly calculated the distance between where the boy was killed and the high school—where werewolf-Oz was locked up.

"_When Xander fell asleep and when he woke up, you mean?_"

"Basically. Though you might not want to phrase it th—"

"_Xander was an idiot last night._" Annie cut in shortly, a small bit of anger leaking into her tone. "_I'm surprised Willow and Oz are even talking to him right now. They were counting on him, and he let them down._"

Charlie sighed, "Everyone makes mistakes, Annie."

"_But everyone has to pay for them, too, right?_"

"You don't think he feels bad enough about this on his own?"

Annie was quiet for a long moment before she sighed. "_I haven't said anything to him. Just like I didn't say anything when he made a comment about Angel a few days ago._"

"What did he say?"

"_Nothing. Just basically Angel and Angelus were the same thing and 'good riddance' to both of 'em. Giles and Willow had been talking about Jenny Calendar and Angelus—_"

"Killed her."

"_Yeah. I don't think he knew I was in the library, 'cause I'd just walked in, but it still hurt._"

"I'm sure it did." After several seconds of silence Charlie continued again. "Um, I talked to the Constance a few hours ago. She said she and a few more members of her coven will be able to visit you the day after tomorrow. Is there some place you want them to meet you?"

"_U-Um, yeah. Yeah. C-Can you tell them to come to, uh,"_ the Slayer paused a second, and Charlie frowned at what clearly felt—over the bond—like hesitation and uncertainty, like she wanted them to go to a specific place, but wasn't sure she should. "_Tell them to meet me around three at number 6 Crawford Street."_

Charlie nodded, frowning as he tried to figure out the significance of the location to his friend but his mind—brilliant with numbers and occasionally names he knew—was coming up blank. Probably because he really knew very little about Annie's life on the Mouth of Hell. "Sure. I'll be working on the equations now, right after I call Gunn. Let know the times as soon as possible, okay?"

"_Yeah, I'll talk to you later, Charlie. Take care."_

"You too. Bye." He sighed as he hung up the phone before quickly dialing the number for _Angel's House_.

_*RING* *RING*_

Charlie started tapping his pencil impatiently as he waited for someone to pick up.

_*RING* *RING*_

Finally, there was a click and a familiar voice greeted him, "_Angel's House, this is—_"

"Lily, hi," Charlie cut in. "It's Charlie. Is Gunn there yet?"

"_Yeah, he and Alonna have been here all afternoon, actually. Are you gonna be late?_"

"No," Charlie sighed, a little surprised at how bad he felt for canceling his first self-defense lesson. "Actually I can't come. Annie called—"

"_Is she OK?_"

"She's fine," Charlie reassured his slightly younger friend quickly, before sighing again. "But she needs my help with something."

"_Can we—_"

"Something mathematical."

"_Oh. OK,_" Lily sighed, and Charlie was pretty sure she was biting her lip as she paused in thought, trying to think of anything she might be able to do to help. After a few seconds, she sighed again. "_OK. I'll tell them. Do you want to canc—_"

"I should be fine with tomorrow afternoon."

"_OK. And you'll let us know if we can help at all, right?_"

"Of course," Charlie smiled slightly, then blinked as another thought struck. "Actually, are any of the coven members there?"

"_Not me, you mean. The useful ones that actually know some magic?_" Lily teased and Charlie winced slightly at his faux pas.

"Yeah, sorry. How are your lessons going?"

"_Great. It's really nice, actually. It's...peaceful, I guess._" Lily sighed again, sounding a little sad as she added, "_It's easy to see why Annie liked it so much, those last few weeks she was here and could spend some time with the coven leaders. With all she has to deal with—_"

"Yeah," Charlie nodded in agreement, also sighing. "Any bit of peace she can get is a good thing." Then he shook his head. "So are Deborah or Constance there, or—um, anyone I don't know the name of?"

Lily laughed, "_Yeah, Deborah's here. One second,_" there was a faint, rustling sound as she probably put her hand over the phone, but he could still hear her yell, '_Deborah? Charlie needs to talk to you,_' before she took her hand away to talk to him again. "_Here she is, I'll tell Gunn and we'll see you tomorrow, OK?_"

"Great, thanks Lily."

A moment later, the older witch's pleasant, confident voice came across the phone line. "_What can I do for you, Charlie?_"

"Hi Deborah," Charlie greeted her, before continuing. "Can you tell me anything about werewolves?"

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_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Thursday, September 26, 1996**_

"B, your back!" Faith greeted her with a wide smile. "What's for dinner?"

"Mom was planning on hot roast beef sandwiches, all the stuff's in here." Buffy set a plastic bag on the library table, "And the directions are in there. Giles has a microwave in his office that he never uses, but it works." She glanced at the cage, where she could sense and hear, but not see their werewolf friend. "How's Oz?"

"He's been pretty calm the last few minutes, compared to the first half hour, at least." Faith winced as she shrugged a little. "The transformation sounds like it hurts a lot, though. I swear I heard his bones crunching and grinding together."

"Yeah, it is pretty bad," Buffy agreed, wincing as she remembered some of the times she'd watched over their wolfy-friend.

"Yeah, no surprise they're so loony every night then, huh?"

Buffy laughed, "There's a little more to it then that, but I guess so." After a moment the elder Slayer shook her head again, sighing. "I feel horrible for Oz," she murmured softly. "I mean, it's bad enough for us, when we fail. When we can't save someone. But could you imagine what it'd feel like if you'd actually killed an innocent? Let alone someone you knew?"

"Yeah," Faith sighed, shaking her head in agreement. "He's really got a raw deal with the full-moon. Doesn't even have any perks, bein' a wolf-man, does he?"

Buffy shrugged again, "I think he has stronger senses and is physically stronger than he would be if he wasn't, well, if he was human. But not like us."

"Nope. Cause we're only two of a kind. The chosen two," Faith grinned, before grimacing as a thought occurred to her. "At least unless I somehow survive dying—do you think the council would think of that?"

Buffy grimaced, "Of what?"

"Stopping my heart to call another girl and then bringin' me back?"

"Uh, I don't think they could even if they would," the older Slayer shook her head, grimacing at the morbid thoughts. "I really don't know much about them really. Merrick taught me the basics of Slaying and Giles is research-man. Before the slightly-competent soldier-Watchers showed up last week, I always thought they were just supposed to, you know, back Giles up."

"Nah, they have lots more power then that, B." Faith shook her head, clearly surprised by the older girl's ignorance. "I'm serious. My watcher said the council has people and resources everywhere. They're just based in England. There are watchers all around the world training potentials and, uh, watchin' the uglies. And they have a lot more of the ones that are trained to fight, like the guys that helped us with Kakistos."

The older Slayer shook her head. "Kinda makes you wonder why they don't lend a hand more often, doesn't it?"

"W-Well, I think they kinda do. Just not here." Faith shook her head and shrugged. "You know, they figure that with a Slayer on guard—now two Slayers—the Hellmouth's under control."

Buffy shook her head again, "Maybe. But everyone else gets back-up. Why shouldn't we?" At Faith's confused look, she elaborated. "I mean, in the military, or law enforcement, anything that's dangerous—like what we do—they have back-up, right? You'd think the Council would be willing to back us up, help us live a little longer. I mean, you said the Slayer before me—India, right?—she lasted three years. I technically only lasted one, and Kendra lasted one." (3)

Both were quiet for several long moments before Faith shook her head again. "It's the nature of the beast, ain't it, B? That's the way it's been for—" she shrugged. "Centuries, at least. And before that, the Slayer really was totally alone. Didn't even have the Watchers. Just visions and super powers."

"I guess," the blonde shook her head again, sighing. "But that doesn't make it right."

Both glanced towards Oz's cage when he suddenly started another attempt at breaking out by ramming into the locked entrance before giving a ferocious growl and stalking back into the darker corner of the cage.

Buffy sighed, "He'll probably be a lot more active later tonight. The moon's not that high yet, but it's at it's fullest tonight."

"Yeah," Faith nodded in understanding. "Red mentioned that," then she shrugged. "He still hasn't even looked at the window, though. Just keeps trying to get through the front and growling at me. He started scratching and biting himself a while ago, too, so I got a cup of water and splashed him with it. He didn't like that, but he stopped scratching for a little while, got another two in case he starts again," she pointed to two full cups of water on the counter nearest the cage.

"Huh," Buffy laughed, shaking her head. "Never thought of that. Good idea. 'Course, I'm not sure Willow or Giles'd be able to do it. You can probably only hit him with it—"

"Cause I'm a Slayer, yeah. Could get 'em a water gun, though. Or a spray bottle, I guess."

"Yeah, I guess," Buffy smiled slightly, nodding again before she asked. "So did Willow and the others say when they were gonna hit the morgue tonight?"

"Uh, yeah. Willow said the place's always closed up before sundown—probably because most of 'em have figured out that anyone who takes a night shift there ends up dead pretty quick—but they were gonna go around nine. Sneak in when it's dark."

"And they have crosses, holy water—"

"Yup. They're all geared up." The brunette shook her head. "Relax, B. They'll be fine. Even if a vamp does rise there tonight, they're ready for it. And I just don't see 'em getting caught there either."

"No. I know," Buffy shrugged, shaking her head again, "I just worry some times." She glanced at the window, where she could see the last hues of sunset fading into twilight in the evening sky. "I'm gonna head out. Start patrolling soon. Do you want me to check ba—"

"I told ya, B. I can handle Mr. Fur. You're supposed to look for the ugly that's making him look back. Don't worry about us," Faith insisted as she sat down and reached for the CD player and the pack of CD's the blonde had brought her. "We'll be fine. And I'll see you tomorrow afternoon when we check in with G-man, k?"

"OK," Buffy smiled softly, nodding to the food on the table as she turned to leave. "If you're not gonna eat that soon, you might want to put in the fridge."

"G has a fridge?"

"Yeah. It's attached to the microwave. Looks weird, but it works." Buffy waved as she pushed open the door. "Good night, Faith."

"Happy dusting!" the younger Slayer called back.

As the doors swung shut behind her, she heard Faith call, "_Hey, what's the math book for?"_ and smirked slightly, a part of her absolutely certain that by adding that to the bag, Faith's innate curiosity would eventually lead her to at least looking at some of it. She'd never admit it, but she might learn something, and hopefully her Council-appointed teacher would arrive soon, otherwise they might have to look into getting Faith into Sunnydale High.

With a sigh, Buffy pushed open the door to exit the school and then took off, headed for the morgue her friends would be hitting later tonight. Odds were, as the sun had just set, that everyone that worked there was already gone. So she could check to make sure her friends wouldn't have to worry about vampires, and sneak a peak into the coroner's file for the information Charlie wanted.

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_**Eppes House, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

"_Charlie_." A warm, familiar voice was calling him. "Charlie, wake up, sweet heart."

Charlie came to with a start, nearly slamming his head back into his mother's as he'd apparently fallen asleep at his desk and she'd needed to lean over him to wake him up. "Huh—What—"

"You were dreaming," his mother told him, smiling softly as she shook her head. "But you should be in bed anyway, it's almost two A.M.. What are you working on?"

The mathematician blinked at his mother for a moment, not really used to lying to her, and never having needed to lie to her about his math before, but then he sighed and shook his head. "J-Just a statistical analysis. I told Annie I'd do it for her."

"Well, you really should get to bed, I'm sure Annie won't—"

"No. I'm almost done. I'll just finish this," he pointed at his notebook and winced as the his shoulder protested the motion, apparently having frozen into one solid, semi-sleeping mass when he was sleeping on his desk. "Owe. I just have a little more work to do. Annie really needs it tomor—today, actually."

Mrs. Eppes shook her head as she stepped directly behind him and started massaging his shoulders with expert hands, strong from years of playing the piano on afternoons when they had the house to themselves, and experienced from having done this numerous times before.

After a little more then a minute she stopped and he sighed as he carefully rolled his shoulder and felt no pain from the motion.

His mother also sighed, "You know you won't be able to do this when you're teaching full-time, don't you, dear? It won't be fair to your students if you need to cancel classes just because you were up too late the night before. They can't cancel because of hangovers, after all."

"I know," the genius winced again, unable to suppress the reaction in response to his mother's disapproval. Glancing at the clock he frowned, "D-Did I wake you u—"

"No, no, dear. I was just getting a glass of water when I heard you," his mother murmured, smiling gently before raising a disproving eyebrow at him. "You will go to bed soon, right? You can't stay up all night. It's not healthy."

"Yes, Mom," Charlie nodded quickly, gesturing to his notebook. "I just have to finish this. It won't take long."

His mother nodded, also glancing down at his notebook, and then she blinked, frowning slightly. "Annie wanted you to do something on the moon?"

Charlie suppressed a wince and gave a small nod instead, even as he quickly picked up his notebook and angled it away from her, in a way that he hoped didn't look suspicious, not entirely sure of what else was on that page. "Uh, yeah."

"I thought she was taking physics this year?"

"Um, there's some astronomy in physics classes. Dr. Fleinhardt loved to use astronomy—"

"In college, I know. But—" Mrs. Eppes shook her head, smiling slightly as she stepped back from the desk. "I'm sorry. Here I tell you to hurry up and get to bed, and I'm delaying your work with questions I probably wouldn't ask if I was completely awake, aren't I?" Not waiting for a reply, she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Good night, sweet heart."

"Good night, Mom," Charlie returned, smiling softly as he watched her leave his room, closing his door gently behind her before he turned back to his notes.

He really had been very close to finishing when he'd fallen asleep, which he didn't think was long ago. He wasn't even sure why he had fallen asleep, he hadn't been all that tired. Now or then.

Of course, that made his nightmare all the more strange. His professor in psychology had claimed that the mind dreams during REM sleep, which is only several hours into a sleeping cycle. Not a few minutes of dozing.

He only vaguely remembered it. Annie had been patrolling in a woodsy area, and she'd been attacked by a feral, growling man whom she'd then started fighting. Then his Mom woke him up.

He supposed it was possible that his mind had made up the feral man as a representation of a vampire, but he'd had nightmares about Annie patrolling, fighting demons and vampires—that looked like real vampires—before, so that didn't make much sense.

Nor had the feelings of shock and horror he could still remember running through his mind. After all, Annie was winning the fight when he woke up, and the feral-man looked much nicer then most of the opponents he'd seen Annie face in person. Wipe the snarl off his face and ignore the blood dripping down his chin and most girls would probably call him a hunk, or something similar.

Charlie sighed and shook his head as he finally finished his calculations, glancing at the clock before quickly reading through the work once more.

He really did want to call Annie, he knew she would probably still be awake—sometimes she patrolled till four or four-thirty in the morning, after all. Still, it really didn't feel right to call her so late, even with the answer he knew she really wanted. So he quickly sent a text message to her phone instead, knowing that she'd look at her phone when she got up later in the morning.

'_Annie. Sent answers. Check email. Charlie._'

Setting his phone down, he opened his email, quickly addressing the new message to her account and the subject line: '_Innocent._' Then he stopped, blinking at the realization that this would probably be the first Annie's Sunnydale friends—and her Watcher—heard about him.

He bit his lip in thought for a second, then nodded to himself and closed the window, instead opening his newly granted Cal-Sci email account. If he wanted Annie's Watcher to take him seriously, it was probably a good idea to not allow any doubt at his credentials from the start. Which also meant he couldn't really just give Annie the answer: no, werewolf-Oz could not have killed Jeff Orkin. Though Annie—and probably her Watcher—wouldn't understand all of the math, he might as well send it.

Besides, he'd just finished his fifth cup of coffee shortly before he'd dozed off, so it wasn't like he was going to be able to sleep any time soon.

So he sighed as he opened up a word document and, after glancing at his notes, quickly started typing up all of the work he'd done for this problem. From his point of view, it really wasn't that much. Though he was sure it was a lot more math then Annie would have any desire to attempt unraveling. But then, Annie knew and trusted him.

About forty minutes later, he finished writing up the math with as many explanations of it as he could think of, knowing that Annie would at least try to understand it and that his 'math metaphors,' as his mom had dubbed them, really helped on that front. Then he opened the window to his Cal-Sci email again, typed Annie's email address into the 'send to' window, '_Innocent_' in the subject line, and wrote out a quick message to his friend before adding the signature he'd designed for his Cal-Sci emails—that listed his name, credentials and school contact info for his students—before attaching the actual work he'd done. Then he hit the send button, and it was only a matter of moments before his computer was shutting itself down while he rose wearily from his chair and started changing into his PJs to go to bed.

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_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as she stepped into the library just in time to see Faith tossing a piece of roast beef through the bars of the cage to their still wolf-shaped friend, who growled but caught the meat and gobbled it up. "You know, we usually don't feed him," she commented, then frowned as the younger Slayer remained facing the cage, moving her head a little this way and that. "Faith?" she called a little louder as she came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. Her senses blared a warning, but she wasn't quick enough to move her face out of the way of the fist that came at her jaw with an instantaneous speed only a surprised Slayer could reach.

"_Oh! _Buffy!" the younger Slayer looked—and she could tell honestly felt—horrified as she pulled her headphones off, the sound of heavy metal music blaring out of them. "God, I'm sorry. I guess I didn't hear you," she held up the CD player she'd been holding in the hand she didn't punch her with.

"Figured as much," Buffy nodded with a wince as she kept pressure on her jaw, eagerly waiting for Slayer healing to kick in and dull the pain of the unexpected blow. "Owe again."

"Are you OK?" the younger Slayer asked, biting her lip in another display of worry and mortification. "I'm really sorry, B, I—"

"It's OK, Faith," Buffy shook her head and started to force a smile before thinking better of it as her jaw protested. "I, uh, may be bleeding internally for a little while, but I'll live. Bonus of being a Slayer, remember?"

"Yeah," the brunette agreed, wincing as her eyes remained focused on where she'd nailed the older Slayer. "Um, what are you doing here? I thought I was here till sun-up, then we were meeting back in the afternoon, right?"

"Right," Buffy nodded, sighing slightly as the pain in her jaw started to ebb. "I couldn't sleep. Had a weird dream, so I wanted to look some things up."

"Was it a vision?" Faith asked with a frown as she turned her CD player off and set it down on the nearby counter.

"I don't think so," Buffy shook her head, pausing for a moment before sighing again as she looked down. "It was about Angel. I-I dreamt that he came back." She bit her lip at the pang of surprise and sympathy she felt from her sister-Slayer, before closing her eyes as the taller girl's arms wrapped around her.

"I think that's normal, B." the brunette murmured after a moment of silence, then took a step back, keeping one arm wrapped around her shoulders and drawing her over to the nearby library table. "I mean, I still have dreams about Dianne some times. It's natural to miss the ones we love, to want them back, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Buffy nodded, before shaking her head again. "But I was having dreams like that for weeks a-after I—when I was in LA," she shook her head again. "They weren't like this. This one was different."

"What'd you mean?"

"It was vivid." Buffy murmured, shaking her head as she closed her eyes and the images immediately jumped back to the front of her mind. "**Really** vivid. Three dimensional, sensurround, the hills are alive. You know, just—"

"It felt real." Faith suggested, then nodded when the older Slayer looked at her. "We've all had dreams like that, B. Dreams that feel so real that's it's a shock to wake up and find out they weren't. It happens."

"I know. I guess it just," she shrugged slightly, sighing again. "It made me wonder." She bit her lip again as she glanced up at the younger Slayer. "Do you think there's a chance, even? That is could happen?"

Faith shook her head, also sighing. "I really ain't the person ta ask, B. You should ask G-man," she winced as she glanced at the clock. "Though you might want to wait till he's had a full nights sleep."

"Yeah, you're right," Buffy nodded, sighing again.

After a moment of silence, Faith pulled her away from the table and back towards Oz's cage. "But hey, no reason we can't look a few things up, right? Do you remember how to use this thing?" she asked, pointing towards the library's card catalog.

This time Buffy didn't let the small amount of pain smiling caused deter her from doing so. "Thanks, Faith," she nodded to the other Slayer, before pulling out the first drawer of cards and leafing through it for any book that might be useful.

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Charlie groaned as a familiar voice roused him from sleep for the second time in far too few hours.

"Rise and shine, sleepy head."

The math-genius squinted at his nearby alarm clock, then groaned as he buried his head under his pillow. "Mooom! I's no' even seven, yet!" he grumbled through his pillow.

"Yes, well, your father and I are up. We were hoping you'd join us for pancakes."

"Don''ike'ancakes," Charlie grumbled grumpily through his pillow again.

"What was that, dear?"

"I don't want pancakes," Charlie revised his earlier statement, picking his pillow up just enough to say it clearly before firmly smothering himself again, hoping his mother would take the hint and leave him alone.

After a moment he heard her chuckle, "Well, all right, sweet heart. I've got to head to work pretty early today, and your Dad's leaving soon. I'll fix up a sandwich for you, for lunch, all right?" She waited a moment for a reply, then apparently accepted that she wasn't getting one and closed his bedroom door.

Charlie sighed happily as he heard her footsteps departing and headed downstairs, emerging from beneath his pillow and resting his head on top of it instead as he happily let exhaustion drag him back into the presently peaceful labyrinth of his subconscious.

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_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Buffy groaned softly as her ever-aware internal alarm sensed motion and forced her out of the light sleep she'd fallen into. She winced as she raised her head slightly from where it'd been resting on her arms, right on top of the one of Giles' old texts, which she'd apparently been reading when she fell asleep. Seeing her Watcher moving away from Oz's cage, she nodded slightly and only just managed to keep herself from dislodging her sister-Slayer's head from its resting place on her shoulder, "Hey," she murmured quietly, not wanting to wake Faith but knowing the brunette wouldn't be able to sleep through the early morning mayhem that was the high school's hallways' before the first bell anyway.

"Hello," Giles returned just as quietly, a soft smile on his face as he took a sip of his coffee while glancing down at the texts she and Faith had dragged out. "Exploring Demon Dimension and Mystery of Acathla?" he raised an eyebrow at the two closed covers closest to him.

Buffy blinked, biting her lip slightly to keep from wincing as she gently shifted Faith slowly away from her, so that her head was resting against the nearby wall while Buffy herself slipped out of her chair, and rolled her neck away with a grimace. "Yeah, uh." She shook her head and sighed softly. "I was just curious, I guess. Faith was helping me look." She glanced over towards Oz's cage as she heard movement from within, but quickly diverted her eyes as the older teen rose and began to dress behind the towel Willow had put up for modesty.

"Might this curiosity have something to do with Angel?"

"She had a dream about him," Faith told the Watcher as she pushed herself up with a yawn, wincing as she also stretched out tense, sleepy muscles.

Buffy winced and looked down, not sure what she was expecting her Watcher to say to that, but totally sure she wasn't comfortable talking to him about it. She hadn't even told Charlie—who was sympathetic to Angel's plight—about the dream. She hadn't had the chance. Though she was kind of surprised when he didn't call right after her nightmare. Maybe the distance was affecting their bond much more then they thought. Still, she was still pretty sure she could sense him on the edge of her mind: barely there, but there. And she wasn't sure why she'd told Faith.

"Of course," Giles murmured kindly, his voice still soft in the early morning hours despite the lack of sleepers in the library. "After Jenny was killed—" he didn't seem to notice Buffy's flinch at his quiet sorrow, though Faith frowned at her, "—I had dreams that she was still alive, that I saved her."

After a heavy moment of silence Buffy shook her head again, sighing as she tried to remember everything she and Faith had read about the night before. "Is there a chance even? Could it happen?"

"Well, there's no record of anyone returning from a demon dimension once the gate was closed. I-I can't imagine how it could happen, or why," the Watcher shook his head as he took another sip of coffee, "What's more, even if the Powers were moved to intervene on his behalf I can't see why they would wait so long to do so. Time moves differently in different dimensions—"

"I remember," Buffy nodded to herself, then shrugged and jerked her head towards the texts when the Watcher and the other Slayer looked at her, leaving them to draw their own conclusions from the fibbing motion. "Time wouldn't really matter as much for Angel, would it?"

"Yeah," Faith agreed quickly, raising an eyebrow as Oz came out to join them. "Cause he's a vamp. Not mortal. Won't age or die from old age. Right?"

"Y-Yes, but f-from what is known of Acathla's Hell Dimension," Giles shook his head, his eyes distant as he set his half-empty coffee cup down and took off his glasses to start polishing them. "It is believed to be a world of brutal torment. I-It would take someone of extraordinary will and character to survive that and retain any semblance of self. Most likely, he'd be a monster. Even with his human soul."

"A lost cause?" Buffy asked quietly, even as a part of her wondered why this didn't bother her more. She should probably be in tears as this revelation. That she sent the supposed love of her life to this fate. But then again the Slayer itself never had liked Angel. It had learned to tolerate him, because he had a soul and Buffy loved him. But it hadn't liked him.

"P-Perhaps," the Englishman nodded, a sad expression momentarily stealing his face. "Perhaps not. In my experience there are two types of monster. One type can be redeemed, or more importantly, wants to be redeemed."

The ones they let go. That deserved a second chance. Sometimes even a third or a fourth.

Buffy nodded, already knowing something along the lines of what her Watcher would say, but wanting to hear him say it anyway. "And the second type?"

"Is void of humanity," Giles murmured, a serious expression on his face as he put his glasses on again. "Incapable of responding to reason. Or love."

"So type one is Angel and type two is Angelus," Faith summarized with a frown, shrugging when everyone looked at her. "Basically."

Everyone then looked at Oz as he shifted uncomfortably. "That's a debate to wake up to," he shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Is there a verdict on which one I fit into?"

"Don't be silly, Oz," Buffy scolded, carefully pulling most of her strength as she punched his shoulder. "You're not a monster."

"Yeah, even if the wolf did eat the stupid kid that was running around in the woods in the middle of the night, it ain't your fault," Faith pointed out, earning reproachful looks of varying degrees from all three. "What?" she shrugged, "B said most of the kids 'round here know better then to be out after dark. So the ones that don't are just stupid."

"I did not say that," Buffy shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Besides, he could have been chased out, or lured out—"

"Any number of events or circumstances could have led to his unfortunate demise," Giles agreed with a firm nod. "None of which give us any reason to speak ill of the dead."

"And I thought I was up early," Willow greeted them brightly as she entered the library, the double doors swinging shut on squeaky hinges behind her.

"Ooh breakfast!" Faith darted around Buffy and halfway across the room, where she eagerly relieved the redhead of her burden, grabbing the box of doughnuts to open it and snatch one before passing the box to Buffy a few steps closer to the table.

"It's fun to watch them make them," the young witch told them, smiling at her boyfriend as she stopped by his side, gesturing to the box. "They use this spritzy thing, and they drop the batter into this—"

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" Buffy cut in with a small smile, shaking her head at her friend's nervous energy even as she suppressed a frown at the darker emotions the redhead was carefully concealing.

"I've been at Mr. Donut since the TV did that snowy thing*," Willow confirmed with a wince, before trying to redirect the conversation with a frown at the oldest Slayer. "How come you're the wakey girl? I mean, it's not like—" she stopped abruptly, glancing at Oz then looking back and forth between both Slayers, clearly worried. "Did—" (6)

"Nothing happened," Buffy shook her head, nodding to the younger Slayer. "Right, Faith?"

"Nope. Nada. No action whatsoever. Though your boy likes roast beef and doesn't like water in wolf-form," the brunette replied, earning odd looks from everyone except Buffy, who rolled her eyes.

"Don't ask," Buffy shook her head before anyone could open their mouths to do so, then nodded to Willow again, meeting her eyes seriously. "Anything happen with the body?" when the redhead looked away nervously, the Slayer frowned, "I swung by there early last night, to make a copy of the file and make sure they weren't any vamps around, did—"

"Oh no, no vamps," Willow confirmed quickly, before frowning as she asked, "what file?"

"Uh, the coroner's report?" Buffy raised an eyebrow, "Didn't you...?"

Willow looked down, a sheepish expression crossing her face. "I, uh, I didn't really think of it." Eyes darting to Giles, she added, "I-I got samples from the body, but, I couldn't," she took a deep breath and shook her head. "M-my i-inspection was inconclusive."

"How can it be inconclusive?" Oz frowned deeply, shaking his head at his girlfriend's statement. "Did it look like—"

"Like he was ripped apart by a big, wild animal?" Cordelia asked as she and Xander entered the library, ignoring Willow's shaking head. "Yeah, it kind of did. What?" she rolled her eyes when she noticed the shushing motions her boyfriend was making at her. "You were there, too, Xander. It's true."

"S-So I did kill him," Oz murmured, staring dejectedly at the ground, black emotions swirling out of and around him, making Buffy wince.

"No, you didn't." Buffy cut in firmly before anyone else could say anything, suppressing a wince as everyone looked at her and as she realized she probably should have started off with that statement. She sighed as she reached across the library table, over the demon texts and grunted as her backpack was just out of her reach. "Faith, could you—thanks," she nodded as the brunette picked the bag up with one hand and tossed it to her.

"Buffy, what are you—"

"When I stopped at the morgue for the coroner's report last night, that wasn't really for you, Giles," she cut her Watcher off, and shrugged when he frowned at her. "I mean, you can have it if you want, but I got it for someone else. That and the idiot's report. I grabbed 'em for a friend of mine in LA. He said he needed 'em to determine if Oz could have killed Orkin."

"Who—"

This time Oz cut Giles off, "And he said I couldn't?" the older teen asked, an almost painful note of hope in his voice as he stared at her.

"Yup." Buffy nodded, grinning triumphantly as she finally managed to pull the printed pages of Charlie's email and work out of her bag. "Here," she handed them to Giles quickly, before she could change her mind, knowing it was past too late to try and find another way to introduce Charlie. And anyway, maybe his work was the best way to introduce him. Especially since it was clearing Oz.

"What does it say?" Willow asked as Giles read through the email and then started scanning the pages of math—and long explanations that Buffy had only barely understood—that followed.

"Yeah, G-man, what's the verdict?" Xander demanded, clearly just as eager to have Oz cleared, though his eagerness was probably based at least somewhat in guilt from falling asleep on duty.

"Lemme see," Willow insisted, reaching for the papers, then frowning, her brow furrowing when Giles deftly dodged her grab and took several steps away from her, still reading. "Giles!"

Buffy decided to take pity on them while her Watcher read. "Basically, it says that wolf-Oz couldn't have killed Orkin, 'cause Orkin was too far away from here for wolf-Oz to have gotten to him even if he did get out. Based on when Orkin actually died, I think. Though I'm still not sure why your wolf would climb back into the cage if it had escaped anyway." She smiled slightly as a look of complete relief overtook the werewolf, the stress and worry of the past twenty-four hours seeming to drain away with her words.

"OK." Oz nodded, breathing a deep sigh of relief before nodding to her. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Buffy nodded, a soft smile still owning her face.

"Buffy," everyone turned to look at Giles, who had a puzzled expression fixed on his face as he stared at her. "How exactly do you know—"

He was cut off by the ringing of the first school bell and Buffy quickly closed her bag and hurried for the door. "There's the bell, gotta get to class. See you all this afternoon, ok? Bye!"

_Coward_. She couldn't help but think to herself as she dashed out of the library and continued moving quickly through the hallway, not really noticing the way all of her fellow students cleared a path for her, something about her: perhaps their subconscious awareness of the Slayer, telling them to stay out of her way.

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_**Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

"Charlie, hey!" a cheery and vaguely familiar feminine voice greeted him as he entered the house that was fast becoming a well-known haven for most of LA.

The mathematician smiled slightly as he recognized the younger teen waving him towards the staircase nearest to the House's entrance. "Hi Alonna."

"Ya ready for this?" the teen asked, grinning as he nervously shook his head in response.

"I hope so." Charlie shrugged. "Athletics have never really been my thing. I mean, I hike and ride my bike, I used to play basketball every now and again with my brother. And I'm good at air hockey. But the one afternoon he and my dad spent trying to teach me baseball was awful."

Alonna laughed, shaking her head as she led the way up the stairs. "Well, that should make the rest of us normal folk feel a little better, shouldn' it? Proves your human."

"I guess," the genius replied with a grimace. After a moment's hesitation he asked his soon-to-be-teacher's sister, "So you do know what, um, what—"

"What Gunn's gonna be teaching you today?" Alonna suggested, smiling over her shoulder at him as she led him up the second flight of stairs, shaking her head before turning her attention forward again. "Not a clue. Usually he makes sure all of us know how to fall, get out of a stronger attacker's hold, how to dodge, stuff like that." Then she shrugged, "But most of the gang grew up learnin' stuff like that, so I don't know where he'd start with a real beginner."

"Same place I start with everyone, 'Lonna," Gunn nodded to them as they finally reached the House's make-shift gym, where several more mats had been laid out in the center of the room. "Sure, it might be harder for Charlie, but he'll get the hang of everythin' soon enough." Then he nodded to two larger young men that were still laying out mats in the room. "Rye an' Devon are gonna be helpin' us out this time."

"Oh, o-ok," Charlie nodded, smiling nervously at the much larger men. Rye was probably six feet tall and Devon was five inches taller than him. Both also probably weighted between seventy to a hundred pounds more then the mathematician, and it looked like most of it was muscle. Charlie nodded to both of the twenty-some-odd men, raising his hand in small wave. "Hi guys."

"Hey, doc," Devon nodded in return, crossing the room in several quick, long steps to seize his hand in a firm grip, a wide grin on his face as he shook his hand. "Nice ta meet ya." The smaller assistant just nodded, a serious look on his face as he laid out the final mat, then turned to the other side of the room, walking over towards the open door of a nearby closet, where several large crates that were stacked up against the walls inside.

"Nice to meet you, Devon, and Rye, too," Charlie wetted his lips as he nodded again to the older men. "Um, so all three of you are—"

"Oh no," Devon cut him off, shaking his head, that same wide grin still set on his face as he grabbed Charlie's arm in a surprisingly gentle grip and steered him across the room to where Gunn and Alonna were waiting, amused looks on both their faces. "Nah, Gunn's gonna be doin' al the teachin' stuff. We'll jus' be helpin' where he tells us to."

"Yeah," Gunn confirmed, also smiling as the pair reached them. At the confused—still nervous and a little lost—look on Charlie's face, he explained, "See some a the time you'll be able ta learn jus' from watchin' me do somethin'. Sometimes I'll need Rye or Devon ta actually show you the move with me, or jus' against each other. Plus, for practicin' it'll be easier for me ta see how you're doin' if I watch ya try somethin' with Rye or Devon. An' if ya try somethin' against Devon, you'll have a better idea of if it might actually work against a vamp."

"Oh," Charlie nodded after a moment of thought—and a glance at the grinning man that probably weighted a hundred muscular pounds more than him—"Th-That makes sense." Glancing at the mats, which now took up two-thirds of the room, he frowned. "Do we really need that much—"

"Room?" Gunn nodded, exchanging a conspiratorially grin with Devon and his sister, "Oh yeah. Here, you can leave your bag with 'Lonna," He replied as he rose from the thickly-cushioned chair he'd been occupying, rolling his eyes as his sister quickly stole it. "Cause the first thing we're gonna do today is make sure ya really, really, know how to fall. Come on over and we'll get started." He ordered as he moved over to the center of the mats, Devon a few steps behind him.

After slowly, almost hesitantly, handing his backpack over to his instructor's smirking sibling, Charlie then just as slowly turned to followed his new teacher to what he was pretty sure was going to be a very painful first lesson.

_**End of Within & Without – Part I.**_

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AN: Well, there's Chapter 4! I hope everyone liked it. ^_^

**Here are some notes from within the chapter itself, (and I'll say a little more after that):**

**(1) I know NOTHING about professional wrestling, past or present. 'Chyna' was the only female wrestler I could find through Google and Wikipedia that seemed to be around—and well know—in the late 1990s. If anyone has a suggestion of a better wrestler for Gunn to mention, please feel free to speak up! (URL: .org/wiki/Chyna)**

**(2) All I know about Krav Maga is what I've managed to research in the last three weeks, but as far as I can tell this is true. It says it right on the official website of Krav Maga Worldwide. (URL: .)**

**(3) India Cohen is actually Canon, I didn't make her up. For more information, have fun with Wikipedia. (URL: .com/wiki/India_Cohen)**

**(4) I'm not sure if Sunnydale's local newspaper was ever given a name, but I ran a search for "Sunnydale news" on Google, and found a fairly amusing example of what said paper might look like. I'm pretty sure it was meant as a joke, but couldn't find anyone to credit it to. It's just a random site, I think. Still, it's kind of funny. (URL: .com/)**

**(5) I had to look this one up. '**_**Diener**_**' translates to 'Servant' in German, and is the name of the person "responsible for handling, moving, and cleaning the corpse" in the morgue. The term is "derived from the German word **_**Leichendiener**_**, which literally means '**_**corpse servant**_**.' I'm not entirely sure it's a term that's actually used in the U.S. but I liked the word, so I used it. (URL: .org/wiki/Diener)**

**(6) I know I stole a lot of lines from the episode—because I love them—but I actually included Willow's comment about 'the snowy thing the TV does' because I didn't know what she meant. My beta told me that when the TV-station stops transmitting the TV produces a 'snowy thing' because it doesn't have any signal to convert to images or sound. Honestly, I never though they stopped processing. I've been up at all hours of the night/morning and while they're usually isn't anything really good on after 2AM, there always seems to be something. And lots of commercials.**

**AN#3: OK, there are all my in-story notes so far! :-D**

**I'd also like to offer many, many thanks to the recent influx of reviewers! I'm glad you're enjoying the story/series so far. And, in response to the most frequently asked question: I have no intention to leave you hanging with this one. My muses like it too much. Though I think the muse that's responsible for my sense of humor got a little carried away in this chapter. **

**The only problem I've had with the series itself so far is that I keep getting great ideas for stuff to happen MUCH later in the series, and that's irritating, but it'll be nice when we eventually get there, since I have all of that written down.**

**The next chapter may be a little later in coming, because I'll be going to the NYC Comicon this weekend, and may not have much time to work on it. I suppose the friends I'm staying with will have to do some schoolwork this weekend too, and hey, I'll probably be stuck in more then a few lines where I'll have time to take out my notebook and write, but I can't promise that. Still, I hope to have the next chapter ready before the end of next week. And I invite all of you to yell at me if it isn't out by then. :-D**

**Bye for now!**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 5: Within & Without – Part II.**_


	6. Chapter 5: Within & Without P2 of 2

**Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: Hi everyone, sorry for the wait. I'll say more on that at the end, but for now: **

**Thank you again to **_**NeverTooOld**_ **for beta-reading. Enjoy! ^_^**

**Warnings: Spoilers for Buffy Season 3, Episode 4, "Beauty and the Beast." **

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

**Chapter 5: Within & Without**

**Part II**

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_**High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Buffy sighed as she made her way slowly through the empty school hallways. This morning she'd used the school bell as an excuse to dodge a question she'd wanted to hear from her friends _weeks_ ago. Her problem being, of course, that though she'd wanted to hear the question, she still wasn't entirely sure how to answer it.

Charlie's a friend from LA. No, not from when she lived in LA, from when she went there this summer. After everything with Angel and Angelus and the source of all—or at least most of—the abandonment issues her friends had complained of not too long ago. How'd I meet him? Well, how I seem to meet everyone worth knowing since I became The Slayer: he was attacked by vampires, I slay vampires. Of course, it was a lot more complicated than that, but that was kinda the start.

Didn't help matters that the only member of her circle of friends here in Sunnydale that had heard anything about Charlie before today—even though it was mostly by accident since she hadn't noticed the first time Buffy'd mentioned him—was Faith. Buffy didn't really mind her sister-Slayer knowing, but she was aware of how it might look to her older friends.

"Miss Summers, everything all right?"

Buffy started and blinked as she turned to see a vaguely familiar man walking with her, a disposable cup of coffee in hand. "M-Mr. Platt? Oh! Yeah, everything's fine. How are you today?"

"Good, thank you," the counselor nodded, smiling slightly as he took a sip of his coffee. "Have you given any thought to setting up another appointment?"

"Don't I have to?" Buffy frowned slightly in confusion.

"Not really, no." Platt shook his head, a soft smile still comfortable on his face. "If you recall I already signed off on your continued admittance here at school. Something I heard quite a bit about from one of the powers on high earlier this morning. Still, that's all taken care of, but it doesn't change the fact that you really might want to stop by once a week just to talk." When Buffy didn't reply right away, he shook his head. "Like today, what's the long face about?"

Buffy grimaced slightly and shook her head, sighing as she replied, "I just have to talk to my friends about something."

"Something you don't want to talk to them about?"

"No," she couldn't suppress a small smirk at the sentiment, "Something _they_ really don't want to talk about, I think." At the counselor's raised eyebrow Buffy continued, "They really weren't happy with my leaving this past summer. Now they want to know about a friend of mine that I met while I was away."

"Ah," Platt nodded in understanding, taking another sip of his coffee before nodding again. "So are you worried about your friends being jealous or them just not wanting to talk about it when they realize when you met your other friend?"

Buffy frowned in thought for a moment, before shaking her head. "I'm not sure."

"Fair enough," Platt allowed as he took another sip of coffee, before nodding to her as they reached his office. "Here's my stop," he pointed out as they stopped outside his door. He offered her a small smile as she nodded in response. "Hey, it won't be that bad, right? Not if they're really your friends. Might be awkward, but that's life."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed in agreement. "I guess it is."

"So will I be seeing you some time next week?"

Buffy bit her lip for a long moment, before nodding hesitantly. "Uh, yeah. I guess. Two o'clock on Tuesday?"

"I'll write you in. Have a nice weekend, Miss Summers."

"You too, Mr. Platt," Buffy nodded, smiling softly as she turned and started down the hallway again, headed for the library.

She'd only gone a few feet though when that smile turned into a frown, and then a wince of pain as a sudden surge of growing anger—hot, ferocious fury—hit her empathetic radar from somewhere nearby.

From Platt's office.

Eyes wide, she was back at his closed door before the thought had fully registered, and burst inside only to bowl someone over.

It was Pete—a friend of Scott Hope's—who glanced towards her just in time for her to see his face shift into some kind of demonic visage of pure rage. His face was swelling with veins rising up, skin sun-scorched red, eyes scowling and his mouth set in an animalistic snarl as he lunged towards Platt, who'd just turned in his chair—a new cigarette lit—in response to her opening the door.

Again, her Slayer-instincts overcame her shock and had her lunging after him, striking him out of the air when his hands were only inches from Platt's face and pinning him half to the psychiatrist's desk, half to the floor in front of it.

"_Run!_" the Slayer ordered, all of the hesitancy and nervousness she'd been feeling moments before vanishing in the face of a threat, and she grunted as she struggled to hold Pete down while glancing towards the door as Platt—clearly terrified—hurried towards it. "Get Giles!" then all of her focus was on trying to restrain Pete as his surprisingly strong struggles stopped and he started shaking violently, nearly breaking her hold as the shaking seemed to make him stronger: and angrier, fury snarling across her senses. Then she gasped as he abruptly pitched backwards, breaking her stance enough to then fling her over his shoulder towards the nearby windows.

"Hey!" a familiar voice yelled, and Buffy felt a little rush of relief as she thought the cavalry had arrived. But that relief was quickly banished as she looked up to see Oz—and Oz alone—struggling to hold monster-Pete at bay.

With another grunt the Slayer rolled off the counter and onto her feet, wincing as the motion pulled at the now bruised muscles of her upper back: where she'd hit the window hardest. A moment later she was all but throwing monster-Pete away from Oz, deliberately putting herself between her friend and the threat, as she always did. "Where are the others?" she demanded without turning, warily watching Pete growl as he rose to his feet again.

"Don't know," Oz replied shortly, "just saw Platt run outta here towards the library. Thought I should check it out."

Buffy shook her head as she quickly stepped into Pete's attack, redirecting it to toss him towards the back corner of the office, away from her friend and the door. "Go get—"

"No, Buffy. You have to go."

"_What?_" Buffy demanded incredulously, her eyes wide as she shot a disbelieving look at her friend.

Oz nodded, resignedly, towards the windows. "Rules are about to change."

Also glancing towards the windows as Pete rose again, Buffy's eyes widened as she saw the first sliver of silver peek over the horizon. She jumped away from Oz, towards Pete, struggling to pull him away from her friend as the full moon rose and said friend gave a pained groan.*(1a)

She made the mistake of glancing at her friend, and almost freezing as she saw his eyes change even as the sounds of his bones crunching together—changing—reached her ears. Then her momentarily—foolishly—forgotten opponent punched her in the side of the head—right where Faith had nailed her the night before—sending her to the floor.

_

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_**Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Charlie couldn't suppress a groan as he hit the floor again. He really didn't like this 'practicing falling' thing.

"Better."

The genius shot his grinning instructor a heartfelt glare at the compliment, sighing as he was pulled to his feet by Devon again.

"Yeah, man. That was a good one," the energetic, bigger man encouraged as he released him again once Charlie started mechanically walking back toward the slightly smaller mountain of muscle that had been throwing him for most of the evening.

'Rye' nodded when Charlie finally made it to the stop, stepping up onto the small platform they'd made for him to be thrown from onto the well-padded floor that was about a foot and a half below. Gunn claimed it made the height of Rye's throw more comparable to that of a vampire or demons, which was what Charlie was really here for, though his explanation hadn't been quite as concise as Charlie's mental summary of it was. The mathematician himself kind of understood the logic behind all of it: vampires were much stronger than them, and if Gunn's mindset was anything like Annie's then he though Charlie really needed to learn how to avoid them more than fight them. He guessed falling was part of that. But it still hurt.

With that thought in mind he frowned towards Gunn and Devon, who were patiently waiting for him nod that he was ready again while Lily and Alonna played card gamed in the background.

"I thought this wasn't supposed to hurt?"

"When ya do it right, yah." Gunn nodded, smirking at him. "But you've only done it right a few times. 'Course your body's complainin' 'bout when you got it wrong."

"Oh." Charlie sighed, before nodding to Rye and moving forward, trying to force himself to relax as the much bigger man easily picked him up and tossed him up several feet in the air. As he tucked his head in and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to maneuver the angle of his fall so that he'd land on his arms or shoulder, his all too active mind started evaluating the directions Gunn had given him for falling again. Logically they made perfect sense. Your head was the area of your body you wanted to protect the most, so landing on it would be bad. Crossing your arms made sense because it made you fight the instinctive reaction of trying to catch yourself with them, which all of his instructors agreed would lead to bad things: like broken arms, wrists or hands. Of course, logical or not, his shoulder still protested as it hit the floor, and was still screaming at him as he continued rolling the fall out. As he finally lost momentum from his rapid descent—which probably took less then a few seconds—he let himself roll to a stop on his back, groaning as his entire upper body protested the prolonged abuse. "_Owe.._."

He heard several of the others in the room laugh softly, clearly restraining themselves, but also he knew all of them were sympathetic to the mild pain they knew he was in. After a moment Alonna's voice cut through the air, gentle but firm, which seemed a little odd coming from a fifteen-year-old, but then she had led an active roll in her brother's 'gang' for a few years now, and her childhood had undoubtedly been much more dangerous than Charlie's ever had.

"Why don't you try to teach him some actual Krav', Gunn?"

"But he needs—"

"He's learning how to fall pretty well. But I don't think his arms can take much more of it. He's gonna be bruised and sore for at least a few days as it is."

Lily continued where Alonna had left off, "And it would be good for him to learn a little more before the night's out, wouldn't it? Plus you'll probably have to mix a bunch of stuff into every lesson since you're only planning on meeting two or three times a week anyway."

After a moment, Gunn sighed and Charlie sent a silent thanks to the two women as his instructor continued. "I guess. OK, man, let's try somethin' else for now. We'll work on fallin' some more on Monday, K?"

Charlie moaned as he felt Devon carefully pulling him up again, doing that same quick check-over he'd been doing every time he'd picked him up. Probably checking to make sure Charlie hadn't broken anything. Which was a good thing, since the mathematician's bruised arms had started going semi-numb a while ago in response to the recurring pain. Still, he nodded in Gunn's direction as he opened his eyes, nodding also to Devon in thanks as the bigger man stepped away once he'd checked him over and helped him find his feet. "Sure, Gunn. What now?"

Before Gunn could replied, Lily cut in again, sounding a bit worried. "Are you sure you're up for more now, Charlie?" When everyone looked at her, the blonde shrugged, her worried gaze fixed on their curly-haired friend. "You didn't get much sleep last night 'cause you had to work on that werewolf thing for Annie, right?"

"I'm fine," Charlie offered her a soft smile and a nod, then shook his head as clear skepticism crossed her face. "Really. I had the cab driver stop at a Starbucks before I got here. Got three double-espresso's. So I've got plenty of energy."

Now everyone was frowning at him in concern.

"What'd you eat?"

Charlie blinked as he redirected his attention back to Gunn. "What?"

"What'd you have for dinner before comin' here?"

"Uh, I didn't have dinner. I was just gonna make something when I got home."

After a moment the older man shook his head and rolled his eyes as he turned his attention to Alonna and Lily. "You two think you could whip somethin' up for him? He really should have eatin' before comin' here."

Both women nodded and rose to their feet, tossing their cards down on the table to cross the floor to the stairs again, headed for the kitchen the House's kitchen on the second floor.

"Somethin' light," Gunn called after them, before turning to Charlie and jerking his head towards the empty chairs around the table. "Have a seat. You can take a breather while we set up for the next lesson."

"I can hel—"

"Nah, we got it, man," Devon cut in, shaking his head as his big hands gently steered Charlie over towards the table, releasing him as Charlie started moving on his own. "You should rest. Drink some of y'ur water."

"But—"

"Devon's right, Charlie. Go rest." Gunn ordered, and Charlie instinctively obeyed as he heard a clear tone of command in his new teacher's voice, something he'd gotten used to hearing occasionally from his parents over the years and a little less frequently from his brother, but much more similar to the occasional commands Annie would issue. Then again, Annie and Gunn were undoubtedly much more dangerous individuals than his family members, and undoubtedly far more accustomed to issuing commands that many people would obey.

Charlie sank into one of the vacated, surprisingly comfortable chairs with a sound that was something in between a sigh of relief and a grunt of pain. When Gunn shot him a pointed look and nodded towards the nearby water bottles, Charlie easily conceded defeat and snagged an unopened bottle, wincing slightly as his hands protested even the slight motion of twisting the cap around to break the outer seal. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes as he gulped down half the bottle, only aware of just how thirsty he really was when the first drop of water hit his dry tongue. A moment later he set the half-empty water bottle down and couldn't suppress a frown as a complaint from a formerly quiet part of his body made itself known, then he sighed. It certainly felt like the headaches he tended to get when dehydrated—more often then not in the summer when he got caught up in some math or went hiking and didn't bring quite enough water with him or just got distracted and forgot to drink it regularly—so his friends were clearly right. He did need rest, and water.

Nonetheless, Charlie closed his eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths in through his mouth and out through his nose, willing the presently dull pain to subside for at least a little while. All of the supernatural 'experts' said he had to learn this. So he would.

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_**Platt's Office, High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Buffy moaned as consciousness started to return, wincing as the bump that had knocked her out—hopefully only a short time before—let her know that Slayer-healing hadn't kicked in yet with a sharp burst of pain to the sensitive spot right between her eyes. Before she could give her head's complaint more thought, a loud crash from just a few feet away made her jerk her head up—wincing as that was a motion her head did _not_ like—to see monster-Pete and werewolf-Oz had just destroyed Mr. Platt's office chair while they continued to wrestle. Their growls were completely animalistic as they grappled with one another and Buffy winced again—this time in sympathy while she forced herself to her feet—as the werewolf's jaws closed around the other changling's arm and Pete's scream pierced the air.

Even as the somewhat cynical wondering of whether Pete would become a werewolf when the next full moon rose crossed her mind, Buffy was dashing forward to grab the scruff of Oz's neck with one hand. She quickly tossed him away as he let go of Pete's arm with a snarl, and turned to deflect the blow Pete aimed at her head even as she heard the door to Platt's office burst open behind her.

"Oh bloody hell," Giles grumbled behind her while she heard Faith moving closer.

"Need a hand, B?" the brunette jokingly asked before kicking Pete's feet out from under him as the older Slayer took a step back.

"Thanks," Buffy nodded, her breathing a little quicker than she was used to in a fight, probably because of her head injury. "Careful, he's stronger than most vamps and he gets stronger—" she winced as she nodded towards the changling as his entire body started jerkily shaking, "when he shakes like that."

The younger Slayer nodded in understanding as she followed Buffy's example of dropping into a fighting stance, "Got—"

"Watch out!" Willow yelled from by the door, but both Slayer's were already ducking and werewolf-Oz sailed right over their heads and into monster-Pete as he rose.

"What is this?" Buffy shook her head as she and Faith also rose again, but paused to stare at the grappling, growling changlings. "Some kind of testosterone thing?"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, B," Faith suggested, also shaking her head.

"You've gotta stop them!" Willow insisted, the slightly hysterical edge in her voice momentarily drawing both Slayer's eyes even as Giles grabbed her shoulders in a gentle hold to keep her back from the fight. "Oz—!"

"Xander, the dart gun!" the Watcher ordered and the teenager obediently raised said gun, aiming at the nearby squabbling monsters, but then pausing with a frown.

"Uh, which one am I—"

"Pete watch out!" Debbie, who'd apparently followed the Scoobies into the room earlier, tackled Xander from behind and actually managed to pin him to the floor—the gun underneath both of them—through sheer determination even as Willow and Giles tried to pull her off him to get to the gun.

A few feet away, both Slayers stared at the pile-up before Buffy shook her head, sparing the nearby monsters a cautious glance before meeting Faith's eyes again. "Get the gun an—"

The sound of a tremendous crash drew all eyes to the two changlings again as the pair went through the windows, quickly dropping out of sight as gravity pulled them down to the ground level that was thankfully only one story below.

"You get the wolf!" Buffy finished her order while running for the window, leaping up on the counter even as she heard Faith moving in the opposite direction, towards the pile-up and she glanced back for only a moment—to see Faith pluck the struggling Debbie off of Xander and toss her towards the door where a staring and startled Mr. Platt caught her while Xander willingly relinquished the tranquilizer gun to Faith—before she was out the window herself. Halfway down she swore under her breath as she saw monster-Pete had finally decided that he was actually in danger—probably more from the werewolf that wanted to eat him than the Slayers—and started sprinting away much more quickly than any human should be able to run. Werewolf-Oz looked up at her and undoubtedly seeing Faith coming out the window with the gun behind her, took off in the opposite direction.

_

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_**Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Charlie groaned, "_Owe…_" he looked up from his place on the floor, flat on his back on the too-thin mats at his new teachers. "I though you said we were gonna start with something easy?"

Gunn was very obviously biting back a smirk as he raised an eyebrow, "This move's about as easy as I get, kid." Then he shrugged. "You might want to look in ta somethin' like Tai Chi or Yoga, to get in better shape. But I really thought you'd be a little better at this. Your friend, Annie, said you can be pretty spry when you need ta be."

"He almost got the start a the move right, bro'," Alonna pointed out from where she and Lily were watching while playing checkers away from the mats, the empty bowls from the soup they'd brought up a short while before piled up next to them.

"So why am I on the floor?" Charlie asked.

"Ya weren't suppose to lean that far forward, doc. Just far enough to throw me off balance so you could attack my head with your elbows." Devon told him helpfully, and Gunn nodded in agreement.

"Oh." Charlie sighed, then frowned. "Wait? When did you talk to Annie?"

"She called for me a few days ago," Gunn shrugged. "We talked for a few minutes."

"About what?"

"The Watch, mostly. Vamps an' scary monsters. Girl's got some good ideas for patrols."

"And me?"

"Well, yeah." Gunn shrugged again, "Hey, she's just lookin' out for one a her own, man. I respect that." Then he shook his head. "Gotta say though, I really thought her voice'd be deeper."

"What?"

"I don't know. I think 'super-demon-hunter-chick,' and I picture someone like Chyna, I guess. You know: strength and all that. For most of the call she sounded like a valley-girl." (1)

Lily laughed before Charlie could, "She kind of _is_ a valley girl, Gunn. By birth, anyway."

"Yeah," Charlie confirmed, sighing even as he tried to figure out if there was a way to get up that wouldn't make his back hurt more. "She only became the Slayer when she was fifteen. When the Slayer before her died and her first Watcher came."

"Watcher?" Gunn frowned, "You mean like the Watch—"

"No. The Watchers Council is a very old organization that exists to supposedly help the Slayer fight against evil."

"'Cept a lot of the mages I've met really don't think much of 'em," Lily interjected, making Charlie's frown deepen.

"No, they don't, do they?"

"Why not?"

Charlie sighed again as he answered Gunn's question, finally deciding to just stay on the floor until Gunn made him get up, as rest could only be a good thing, right? "I don't know. I'm trying to find that out. Mostly, they just seem to do all the research for the Slayer. Weaknesses of demons, tracking supernatural activity and stuff. Training." Then he smirked, "Though if her voice surprised you, I really want to be there when you meet her in person."

"Why?"

"I don't think you could find a girl _less_ like any of the female wrestlers you can name," the mathematician shook his head gently. "Of course, magic changes that, doesn't it? Chyna couldn't throw you a tenth of the distance that Annie can, either."

"Really? Man," Gunn shook his head. "I mean, I know she's supposed to be stronger then most vamps, but—"

"She seems to be getting stronger, too. And faster." Charlie sighed. "At least that's what she thinks. And some of it may just be from experience, but her powers may be growing too."

"How does she control her strength?" Alonna asked, and Charlie shrugged again. "I always wondered that about the supers in cartoons."

"Most of the time she's only two or three times stronger than normal. But when she's fighting her strength and speed increase, the longer the fight the more they increase. She's trying to gain control over that. Make herself stronger and faster sooner, and pull it back sooner afterwards, but I don't think she's really got it yet. Has to train a lot more."

"Speaking of training, isn't it about time you got up, man?" At Charlie's pained look, the older man chuckled and held out a hand, "Here."

With another sigh, Charlie reached out and grabbed his friend's forearm, letting himself be pulled up and pushing himself the rest of the way as he found his feet. "Th—" he stopped abruptly as a strange, overwhelmingly cold feeling flooded his senses, followed immediately by a wave of momentary euphoria that quickly gave way to pure and total pain and terror, stealing his breath.

"Charlie, you OK?" he heard Gunn ask, but didn't answer.

Suddenly realizing the only place that the strange feelings could be coming from, even as he drew frantic gasps for breath—for some reason he didn't feel like he was breathing enough and he didn't think it was just shock from the emotional onslaught—Charlie closed his eyes and frantically reached for his bond with Annie, not entirely sure how he did it, but knowing he could find it because it was an emergency. As he reached it, he felt something inside of him rise up on a surge of pure determination.

And then his legs collapsed underneath him, his mind barely registering his friends' scared shouts as his mind spun into complete darkness.

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_**Woods near High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Buffy kept half of her focus on keeping her breathing slow and even, and only some of her attention on her Slay-dar while she scanned the woods around her, super-sharp eyes following large footprints in the forest floor, broken branches, twigs and other signs of a rampaging monster passing through. How had she lost him? He hadn't even had a full minutes head start!

A familiar, frightened voice drew her attention from closer to the school than she'd thought he would head and Buffy turned towards it, belatedly recognizing both Debbie and Pete's arguing voices. The second clearly still enraged and the other terrified.

"Pete—I-I didn't—"

"You're nothing but a waste of space!"

"No! No Pete plea—!" Debbie's frightened cry was abruptly cut off with the sound of a distinct 'snap' echoing through the woodland as Buffy finally reached the pair.

Buffy stopped abruptly as a bizarre sensation flooded her empathetic sensations—washing away Debbie's terror, Pete's rage and Buffy's own pain with a flood of something else. Something completely different from anything she'd—no. The Slayer stopped as she realized what it was, her mind moving inward momentarily even as her eyes continued to stare at her target and his victim.

It was something she had felt before.

The night she faced The Master.

The night she'd died.

Buffy shook her head to clear it and watched wide-eyed in horror as Debbie dropped from her monstrous-boyfriend's murderous hands and landed limply on the forest floor. The other blonde's eyes were also wide and staring, but unseeing as they stared right through the Slayer from an awkward angle that a functional neck could not allow.

"Oh God..." Buffy shook her head as an icy cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, the momentary bliss of release after pure panic gone as quickly as it'd come, harried away by the realization of what it'd meant.

Debbie was dead.

Buffy had failed her.

Before her mind could go any further down that path she was dodging away from Pete as her Slay-dar signaled an incoming hit, managing to deflect it but still sent sailing several feet through the air into a nearby tree from the force of the blow.

"_All the same!_" the demonized-teenager was snarling at her as he tried to hit her again, his fist ramming at least six inched into the tree she'd dodged away from as he missed but he pulled it back out a mere moment later with inhuman ease. "_All of you whores! All the same!_"

The Slayer dropped down towards the ground under another punch and kicked his feet out from under him, but he caught her leg on the way down and swung her towards the nearby tree, slamming her face-first towards the place he'd just punched. Buffy grunted as she only just managed to keep her face from hitting, twisting to let her shoulder—which would probably be heavily bruised later—take the blow, then pushing quickly grabbing hold of the tree to pull away from her captor and swing her free foot towards his head, flipping away as he let go of her leg to avoid the blow.

Buffy watched monster-Pete as he backed several steps away, using the momentary reprieve to try and shake and stretch out several sore spots even as her eyes remained locked on her adversary. She frowned in confusion as he wrapped his arms around a massive tree trunk, then her eyes widen in shock as he somehow pulled the gigantic tree up out of the ground with a single tug of his convulsing limbs. She tried to get out of the way as he swung the Sycamore* at her but was easily caught up in it's far-reaching branches and slammed into another nearby tree. There she slid down to the ground in a slight daze, groaning even when the weight of the massive club dropped down onto her lap even as she tried to shake herself out of her disorientation. (2)

"You're all the same." Monster-Pete repeated again, though this time he sounded a little bit clearer: not quite as much snarling.

Then Buffy reflexively gasped—or at least tried to—as monster-Pete's supernaturally strong, massive hands closed around her throat and dragged her out from under the tree effortlessly. Already disorientated from what was probably a concussion—either from when Pete'd thrown her into the wall earlier, or any of the other times her head had recently met stationary objects at uncomfortable speeds—and her strength rapidly fading along with consciousness as lack of air became more and more important, her attempts to break his hold totally ineffective.

As her vision blurred along the edges she allowed the first vestige of real panic to escape her subconscious into conscious thought. Suddenly Charlie's face flashed before her eyes, followed by a wave of complete calm.

For a moment she felt the Slayer's ferocious snarl ring through her mind, but then darkness came for the second time today.

_

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_**Woods near High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Faith sighed as wolf-Oz finally collapsed under the influence of two tranquilizer darts. After handing the gun to Giles she bent down to pick the unconscious werewolf up. She nodded in thanks to Xander and Willow as both hurried to help her, Xander grabbing his feet while Willow got his head.

A sudden surge of fear rushed through her, momentarily dispelling all other thought and she dropped Oz, making the two Scoobie cry out in surprise.

"Gee, ya think a little warning next t—"

"Faith?" Willow cut Xander off, gently laying her boyfriend's wolf-shaped head down as she rose to study the brunette, a concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, y-yeah, five-by-five, Red," the Slayer replied, shaking her head to clear it. "That was—" she stopped abruptly as she was struck by the horrifying realization of the only place that terrible feeling could have logically come from. "_B!_"

"Wait, what?" Xander asked as he, Giles, and Willow stared at her, expressions becoming all the more bewildered or worried as the Slayer started to move away without answering. "What about Buffy? _Faith!_"

Faith yelled back to the three over her shoulder from the corner in the hallway, "Get him in the cage!" then she really took off, running as fast as she could in the direction that the feeling had come from, trying to suppress the terror come from her own heart.

She wasn't ready to lose Buffy. She wasn't ready to be the chosen _one_. Maybe some day she would be, but not today. It was too soon. B and Mrs. Summers were the closest thing she had ever had to a real family. Even Di hadn't really felt like family, as she'd always maintained that 'professional relationship' the Council insisted on. She wasn't ready to lose that. She'd only had it for a few weeks!

She whipped a hand across her rebellious eyes to wipe away the tears that were starting to leak out, shaking her head angrily as she tried to make herself run faster, pushing the limit even the Slayer was comfortable with as she flew around corners, headed back to the library, in the direction Buffy had gone after the other beast.

_

* * *

_

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_**Somewhere…**_

_Charlie stared around him in confusion, frowning at the realization that he really **had** to be dreaming. If only because he was surrounded by nothing. Literally nothing. Just pure, blank, blackness. Like what one might expect a vacuum to feel like, except he wasn't having any trouble breathing anymore so maybe it was just some kind of figurative void that his mind was creating?_

"_Think your mind is creating this, or mine?"_

_The mathematician's eyes widened and he spun around towards the familiar voice, eyes wide even as a relieved smile lit up his face. "**Annie!**"_

"_Hi Charlie," the blonde replied with a warm smile, before sighing as she glanced around them again. "So your mind or mine?"_

"_Are you okay?" Charlie demanded, briefly ignoring the inquiry in favor of a far more important one._

_The Slayer's eyes came back to his and her face quickly melted into a reassuring smile. "I'm fine." Then she frowned slightly, shaking her head as she looked around again. "I think... We're not dead are we?" She shot an anxious glance at him as she demanded, "What happened to you before you, um, came here?"_

"_N-No, I, uh," the young genius paused in thought, shaking his head as he took a deep breath to collect his thoughts before continuing. "I was just at my defense lesson at The House and then it was cold and I—" he bit his lip and shook his head again before quickly continuing. "__**You**__ couldn't breath. I was—You were scared. What—?"_

_Annie cut him off with a sigh. "I thought it'd be something like that." She looked down for a moment, then shook her head as she met his gaze again. "Do you think that i-if I died, would you be pulled with me? B-By the bond?"_

_Charlie stared at her for a moment, horrified by the idea. Although he knew it was the idea of Annie dying that really bothered him, not him dying with her. "I-I don't know. I don't—"_

"_Always alone." An unfamiliar, female voice that was softer than a whisper interrupted him, drawing both there eyes to a distant source of light._

_As their eyes fixed on it their surroundings changed—either they were moving closer to the flickering light or it was coming to them, but—suddenly they were standing beside a flickering fire. Then their eyes immediately went to the figure on the other side of the flames._

"_Who—"_

"_I'm afraid you won't get many answers from her," another female voice gently cut Annie off and both turned towards it._

_A woman with shoulder-length black-hair and dark eyes appeared in a shower of glittery-lights that continued to linger around her and Charlie frowned as Annie took a step back. When he glanced back at her his frown deepened as he saw that her face had gone shock-white and her eyes were wide with palpable surprise._

"_Annie, what—?"_

_Annie ignored him, her eyes never moving from the older, sparkling woman's face. "Ms. Calendar?"_

"_Hello Buffy," the older woman smiled, nodding to her before her eyes rose to Charlie's, "And you must be Charlie. I'm Janna Kalderash," at his confused look, she added. "Buffy knew me as Jenny Calendar."_

"_Um, nice to meet you, Ms. Calendar," Charlie replied a little uncertainly, still wary because of the strange setting and Annie's reaction._

"_Call me Jenny, please," the glowing woman insisted. "I know this probably seems strange to you. To both of you. So we'll try to keep it as informal as possible."_

"_So we're dead, then?" Annie asked, ostensibly out of the blue to Charlie, but the older woman didn't seem at all surprised as she shook her head. _

"_No, you're not dead."_

"_Death is your gift." The primitive's voice interrupted, and all three looked at her she finished, Jenny rolling her eyes while the two teenagers stared._

_Charlie shook his head in confusion, "Did she—" he shook his head again, still staring as he brought a hand part way up to point at her but just managed to stop himself, jerking it back down. "Her mouth didn't move." Glancing uncertainly at Annie, just to be sure, he asked, "It didn't, right?"_

"_Yeah, that was kinda freaky," Buffy agreed, her head tilted slightly to the side in contemplation as she frowned at her predatorily pacing predecessor._

'_Jenny's' laugh drew their eyes back to her, but though her laugh sounded pleasant her dark eyes were sad. "Sineya doesn't speak. Not really. She hasn't since—"_

"_I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute... alone."_

"—_She was made into The Slayer. And even before then, the 'language' she would have spoken is not really what we'd consider language. And it certainly isn't English."_

_Annie shook her head, staring at the primitive again. "Wh—?"_

"_She's the First Slayer?" Charlie cut Annie off, shooting her an apologetic smile when she frowned at him._

"_I see you've done some homework," Jenny nodded, smiling softly. "Yes. She was the start of the Slayer Line. The First Slayer."_

_Annie shook her head, obviously amazed by the idea of the first of those who'd come before her in the Slayer Line, but continuing anyway. "If she can't speak how—" she shook her head, and waved slightly towards the crouching woman, who's dark eyes were still fixed on her and Charlie. "We heard her speak. Twice now."_

"_No. She did not speak. You heard her thoughts. Your connection to her, as the source of your powers through the Slayer-line, has grown immensely since you bonded with Charlie. She's tied to both of you now much more then she has been to any Slayer in millions of years."_

_Again, Annie shook her head. "What do you mean 'tied to'?" Her eyes narrowed as she continued, "And how is she tied to Charlie?"_

_The mathematician shot his over-protective friend a wary look. Though Annie was indisputably his very best friend, there were times she made his brother's occasional bouts of over-protectiveness look mild. Which was strange, since when his older brother had been over-protective it usually involved beating up bullies that stupidly tried to target him in high school. Comparatively, while Annie would certainly annihilate any demonic being that threatened him, she could also do this thing—like she was doing now—where she just radiated 'danger'. Charlie couldn't even tell what it was she did exactly, while physically she was always on guard, usually when she was threatening someone or something she was completely relaxed. If anything, he supposed the only definite physical sign you could see of her protectiveness was the fire it lit in her eyes when incited. He knew it wasn't something he was picking up from the bond with her—though he definitely knew when she was really angry—whoever it was directed at, which was never him, definitely felt it too. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes her size and appearance was a problem, since less-experienced idiots would be inclined to ignore their instincts when looking at her and not recognize her as a threat._

_Still, Jenny definitely recognized it, because she clearly drew herself back a little as she raised her hands in a mollifying manner, shaking her head as she answered Buffy's question carefully. "Sineya is connected to Charlie through you. When you gave your blood to him, Sineya was a mostly dormant part of you. But she was part of your very being, and in your blood. She was awakened by the act and sensing how much you wanted to save him, she approved it and bound herself to him as well." The woman slowly lowered her hands back to her sides as Annie thought while she continued. "That's why Charlie healed more quickly. If Sineya hadn't approved, none of your supernatural gifts would've been transferred." Now the woman shrugged, shaking her head at the confused look she probably saw on Charlie's face. "You haven't needed as much sleep as you did before, right? Haven't had many medical problems, and have healed quickly from injuries? You're a little stronger, faster, and probably a lot more agile, too. Not as much as a Slayer, but the signs of Sineya's approval are still there."_

"_Is that why we can feel other peoples' emotions, too?" Charlie asked curiously._

"_No," Jenny shook her head again, bits of light scintillating around her as she did so. "That's really more because of the nature of the blood bond itself, it opened your mind to a sense most humans never develop. And while it may have been strengthened by Sineya, it wasn't a trait she was known to possess. Of course, she mostly avoided interaction with other human beings for most of her life after her village drove her out, too, so we really can't say for sure."_

"_She didn't have a Watcher, right?" Annie murmured, frowning at the thought. "But The Watchers didn't exist then, either, so why'd her family—"_

"_People fear what they don't understand, Buffy." Jenny told her gently. "And the other villagers really thought she was a demon, too. Or at least possessed by one, which she kind of was early on. It took her a long time to gain full control of her powers, and she never was completely human again. In her time, demons were a known threat, so her people were probably wise to be afraid."_

"_What about the people who created her?" Charlie asked and Jenny sighed again._

"_The shamans lost control of her when they implanted the essence of a powerful-demon into her captive form. They underestimated just how powerful she'd become. And when she broke free of the chains they'd used to imprison her during the ritual, she fled. But when she returned to her village, seeking the comforts of what was familiar and in turn saved them from attacking vampires, the villagers feared her far more then the vampires. She won, after all, so she was more dangerous. But after that first rejection she never tried to reconnect with her humanity again, instead she fully embraced her destiny. And after her death, her powers and some of her own essence passed onto another girl, whom she guided in dreams." Jenny shrugged. "And it continued that way for millions of years, until the first Watchers, descendents from the shamans of long ago, found a Slayer and convinced her to let them help her. Over time, the Slayer grew more dependent on the Watchers then Sineya, and Sineya's spirit drifted to rest, allowing Slayers of the past and the Powers That Be to enter her descendents' dreams in her stead."_

"_So we pulled her out of her resting place?" Annie frowned, clearly not liking the idea anymore then Charlie himself did. Surely all of the Slayers deserved whatever peace death could offer them after their all too altruistic lives. _

"_No." Ms. Calendar shook her head again, "Not in the way you're thinking." The older woman paused for a moment, her gaze inattentive as her thoughts turned inward before her eyes came back to them and she continued. "This," she nodded towards the ancient, war-painted woman that was stalking the other side of the fire. "This isn't Sineya, not really. Sineya's spirit has moved far beyond us, for the most part. And for her to fully return could cause a catastrophic change in the Balance." She raised her hand when both her listeners' mouths opened to question her, silencing them. "What you see here, of both Sineya and myself is more your minds' efforts to understand the knowledge that both the Powers That Be and the piece of Sineya's essence in The Slayer—the memory of its earliest form, along with many that came afterwards—are feeding you. The Powers That Be invoked Buffy's memories of the real Jenny Calendar, hoping that in this form you would be able to accept me as the guide I am meant to be. But I truthfully have no form of my own."_

_After a moment of waiting for Annie to say something, Charlie finally spoke up when she didn't. "So the real Jenny Calendar is still—"_

"_At peace. Resting as she has been since her death at the hands of—"_

_Annie cut her off abruptly with another question, but Charlie had heard enough to remember who Ms. Calendar was to his friend. "So...we're dreaming?"_

"_In a way, yes. The only difference being the dream is not a product of your own minds but that of outside influences, including each other."_

"_So...who's mind are we in?" Annie asked, her curiosity following the conversation to the obvious question, which they'd actually been considering a while before. "Mine or Charlie's?"_

"_Both, actually."_

_Charlie exchanged a look with his friend, who was clearly just as confused as he was by the black-haired woman's answer, then both turned to her and asked oh so eloquently, "**Huh?**"_

_Their guide laughed again. "You are each in your own mind," the woman explained gently, a kind smile making her face warm and welcoming. "But your minds are fundamentally bound together now, by your blood bond. So you influence each other."_

"_So when Annie was in trouble..." Charlie murmured, his soaring IQ finally flying down for a moment to pick up the train of thought._

"_The fragment of Sineya that was called to the surface of the Slayer's powers when you bonded fully woke up, and recognizing the danger, decided to draw from another available power source to help her."_

"_Power source?"_

_Charlie nodded in understanding and acceptance. "Me," he murmured quietly, knowing Annie already knew it too. Though she often played the stereotypical 'dumb blonde' act to her advantage, his friend really was a rather brilliant woman when she actually applied her mind to a problem. And the frown on her face was far deeper than Charlie'd ever seen even before he'd made the connection aloud, as the implications of the statements apparently upset her more than Ken's Hell ever had._

"_Now wait a second!" Annie demanded, her tone taking a furious edge that he also wasn't accustomed to hearing. He'd heard it directed at vamps and demons a few times before, but that was it. Even when talking to vamps or demons, she'd usually have a smile on her face or a joke on her tongue, the playful and cheery turn taking most of the edge off. "Charlie isn't a power source! He's my friend!"_

"_And he's someone Sineya cares for also," Not-Jenny reassured her, dark hair swaying back and forth as she shook her head. "That's why your death isn't likely to cause Charlie's own. Sineya wouldn't allow it."_

"_But she—"_

"_But she would be more than willing to drain a little of Charlie's energy to ensure your survival."_

"_But—"_

_This time Charlie cut her off, gently taking hold of her shoulder—a part of him wondering exactly how physical touch and such worked in this connected-and-invaded-dream while—he made her look at him. "It's OK, Annie. I want to help in any way I can. And if my being tired for a little while is the difference between you're living and dying, I'll be more than happy to take nice long naps as often as I need to."_

_The blonde shook her head, her eyes wide as she started to object again, "But Charlie—"_

"_But nothing, Buffy. It's OK. Leave it alone." Charlie shook his head, carefully holding her gaze to make sure she knew he really was completely serious. Though, thankfully, not blinking was a lot easier here since it wasn't a physical necessity._

_Apparently using her 'real' name on her had some impact, because she blinked much more quickly than he'd expected her too. She didn't say anything for several long seconds that might have been hours for as much as either of them knew, then Annie finally sighed and nodded, looking away for a moment before nodding again and turning back to their glowing guide. _

"_But I don't understand. Why did our bond wake, um, her?" Annie asked, nodding slightly towards the ancient Slayer that will still prowling a few feet away. "And you're not real?"_

"_Oh I'm real. I'm just not really Jenny Calendar as you knew her. The form and the voice and the dialect are all characteristics you're more comfortable with, so that's how the Powers chose to send this—"_

"_Instead of sending Whistler?" Annie asked, one eyebrow raised._

_Charlie frowned at her, sensing that she was almost as confused as he was and was seeking refuge in semi-hostile curiosity, but even knowing that there wasn't much he could do. He was still struggling to keep up too._

"_Whistler could not come here," the older woman nodded. "Even ignoring your hostility towards him, he is a living being. A representative of the Powers That Be, yes, but a being of blood and flesh nonetheless. Your minds are not an environment he could handle." She paused in thought for a second, then continued. "And the problem at hand must be resolved here, so—"_

"_What problem?" Annie demanded, now all-out glaring at the 'woman'. "We can't cut the bond, all of—"_

"_No. You can't cut it, that's very true." Not-Jenny agreed, smiling gently in an oblivious effort to ease some of the Slayer's fears. "But you do need to develop much better control of the bond. It could become a very powerful weapon, but it could also greatly endanger both of you."_

"_But you just said Sin—Sinya—__**she**__," Annie nodded towards the much older Slayer before continuing. "That she wouldn't hurt Charlie."_

_Sineya didn't seem at all annoyed by her descendant's difficulties with her name, she was agitated yes, but no more then she'd been the whole time they'd been here, stalking back and forth on the other side of the fire, her head turning each time she did so that neither Annie or Charlie were ever out of her unblinking sight. _

_Charlie hoped the ancient being—or his and Annie's imagination of the ancient being?—wasn't offended by how uncomfortable her intense stare was making him. While the not-needing-to-blink aspect of their current circumstances had been useful for him a few moments before, now that he'd noticed how intently Sineya was watching him it made him more than a little ill at ease._

"_She certainly would not mean to," Ms. Calendar replied firmly, but then shook her head again. "But she presently only really becomes fully-active when one of you is in danger. Only then does she know anything about you really, and even then she can't entirely grasp the world you live in. The modern world is very, very different from the world she knew."_

"_Well, yeah, but what does tha—"_

_Charlie cut his friend off gently, "She's right, Annie. If she pulled from either of us at the wrong time—when we're crossing the street, on a ladder or stairs, or driving a car, that could kill us." Then he turned to their 'guide' with a frown, "but what are we supposed to do about that?"_

"_Train. Develop the bond and learn how to control it. And, right now, you have to let her in."_

_Both Charlie and Annie looked at the ancient Slayer again, and took a step back in surprise when they saw that she'd stopped stalking now and, while she was still crouched low to the ground she was still as a statue, staring at them._

* * *

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_**Woods near High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Faith drew herself up short as she finally reached her sister-Slayer, staring as the older Slayer moved towards the clearly disorientated monster-man with lethal grace even as he rose from the pile of debris that had probably been created when he'd been thrown _through_ one of the ancient, massive trees nearby. Seeing as the three of them were the only ones there, Buffy had to have been the one to throw him but if she wasn't in trouble what—

The younger Slayer's thoughts ground to a halt again as she finally paid attention to what her Slay-dar was telling her and let realization strike just as monster-man threw a punch at Buffy.

Or at least tried to. Buffy caught his wrist in what deceptively looked like a gentle grip but had to be laced with steel as his fist didn't move an inch forward after she caught him and he clearly couldn't pull back even as his body quaked with his enraged efforts. Then Buffy threw him again. Just picked him up and tossed him through another tree with the one hand that was holding his fist.

Except from what Faith's Slay-dar was telling her, that wasn't Buffy. Not really.

"_Faith! Buffy!_"

The brunette's eyes were momentarily pulled away from the dangerous dance she'd stepped into halfway through towards the approaching footsteps that rapidly turned into Giles and Willow. Both came to an abrupt, shocked stop a few feet behind her when they got a good look at Buffy and monster-man just as he tried to attack her again and instead of being caught and thrown, his blow was dodged and he was hit with a punch that sent him twice as far into another tree, which he also passed partway through, though this one was old and big enough to stay standing.

"What—" Willow shook her head, "What's going—"

"Where's wolf-man?" Faith cut in, more worried then she'd ever care to let on at the idea of having failed her job by leaving the Scoobies to lock the unconscious werewolf up.

"He's in the cage," Giles quickly reassured her, though his eyes were locked on the older Slayer as the blonde moved slowly towards the other monster.

"Xander's with him," Willow confirmed, also frowning and then gasping as monster-man tried to charge Buffy. Again the blonde didn't even bother catching him, she just dodged gracefully around his fist and kicked him in the side, sending him flying yet again. "What—" she shook her head and started to move forward, "Buffy—"

"I wouldn't, Red," Faith side-stepped to block the redhead's advance, extending an arm slightly to make sure the older teen got the message. "That's not Buffy."

Both Scoobies—at least she thought G-man was kinda a Scooby, too—looked at her, eyes wide as the panic that had drawn all of them in this direction started to seep back into their brains. In the back of her mind Faith wondered how the Scoobies had caged wolf-man and gotten here so fast, but she suspected magic had something to do with it and figured she'd ask later as their Watcher started up.

"What do you mean?" Giles demanded, finally turning to look—or actually, glare—at her.

"I think," Faith bit her lip, hesitating a moment as all eyes went back to Buffy again, just in time to see her send monster-man flying. Again. "I think that's The Slayer."

"What's that mean?" Willow frowned, shaking her head. "Of course Buffy's the Slayer, but—"

"No," Giles cut her off before Faith could, a clear note of wonder in his voice as he continued staring at Buffy. "She means Sineya."

"Sineya?" Willow shook her head, clearly still confused. "Who—"

"The First Slayer, Red." Faith explained quietly. "The start of the Slayer-line."

"Are you sure?" Giles asked, but before Faith could reply all of their eyes were drawn back towards the nearby fight by the sound of loud, distinctive *SNAP*. And they turned just in time to see Buffy's opponent's body drop limply to the ground. Dead.

After a moment's silence, Faith nodded, "I'm sure," then flinched as her quiet murmur drew The First Slayer's attention. All three took a step back as Buffy turned towards them, her eyes glowing and her expression completely blank. Faith had to stop herself from backing up more and instead took a step forward to shield the two unenhanced humans, gulping inaudibly as her senses—both the part of her that was a Slayer and the part that used to be a street kid in Southie*—wanted to back away. But the growing part of her that had already started thinking of the older Slayer as family, as a sister, wouldn't let her. (3)

Still, she had no desire to actually fight the other Slayer; not Buffy and definitely not the First Slayer in Buffy's body.

"Um, G? How do we let her know we're _not_ a threat?"

"Of course we're n—"

"No, Willow, she's right." The Watcher cut the high school student off again, "Sineya doesn't know us. Bow."

Faith blinked, but obediently bowed her head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other two bowing deeper—actually bending completely at the waist—and then noting that the other Slayer's glowing eyes were fixed on her, she quickly followed their example. Bowing her head again she then kept going, letting her back fall into the bow while still carefully, worriedly keeping her eyes on the possessed Slayer until the last moment of her descent. Then her Slayer-senses told her to lower eyes, so she did for a just a second, before looking up again and smoothly rising.

She felt a little better as her Slay-dar seemed to register a decrease in the hostility the older Slayer had been radiating moments before, and she visibly saw Buffy's body relax ever so slightly. Though she was still in a familiar resting position that would allow her to take anything they threw at her very quickly, at least it didn't look like she might attack them right away.

"Now what?" Faith whispered out of the corner of her mouth, hoping the Watcher had some way out of this that didn't involve another body bag.

After a moment of contemplation the Watcher replied, "We should try talking to them. To call Buffy back and convince Sineya that it's safe and that she should be at rest."

"Buffy?" Willow immediately called, sounding a little uncertain but clearly wanting to help. "I-It's OK now. You can come back."

The Slayer never even looked at her.

The redhead winced, looking a little hurt as she added, "Please?"

Faith started as she realized the blonde's glowing gaze had been fixed on _her_ the entire time, almost like she wasn't even seeing the other two. "Giles, is it just me or—?" she stopped at the blonde's head cocked to the side in a clear motion of confusion.

"She seems to be reacting to you, Faith," the Watcher agreed almost immediately, probably having noticed himself earlier then she did. "Perhaps she's sensing that you, too, are a Slayer."

"So does that mean I'm a friend or foe?" the brunette asked, unable to keep a note of nervousness out of her voice.

"You've already shown her deference by bowing, and you have made no aggressive movements so I believe she is more confused by your existence then anything else." Giles reasoned. "But as she is only paying attention to you, you may be the only one that can call her back."

"Um, O-OK," Faith nodded, and hesitantly took a step forward, quickly stepping back when the possessed-blonde tensed up again. "Um, hey, uh, Sineya, right?" she licked her lips, not really expecting the ancient spirit to respond, but figuring she should give her the chance to anyway. Then she continued, "Everything's all right now, so do you think you could let B, um, come back? Please?"

The blonde cocked her head to side again, this time moving all the way around from the side she'd cocked it to before to reach the opposite angle. Then she stopped again, still staring and eyes still glowing.

"Try calling Buffy instead," Giles whispered.

Faith nodded again, forcing herself to meet the glowing-gaze straight on again. "Hey B, plan on waking up anytime soon?" she ignored Willow's light kick at her heel.

She opened her mouth to try again, but stopped when the strange, golden light in Buffy's eyes started to fade. The blonde's eyes returned to their normal, brilliant green hue, then rolled back in her head, and Faith darted forward over the space between them, only just managing to catch the older girl before she hit the ground.

Glancing over at Giles and Willow, the younger Slayer shrugged, "I guess it worked?"

* * *

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_**Buffy/Charlie's Dreamscape...**_

_Buffy frowned at the guide that looked like her Watcher's dead-girlfriend. "Let her in?"_

"_How are we supposed to do that?" Charlie asked, clearly just as confused as she was._

_The guide smiled softly, "It's very simple really." She nodded towards Sineya. "You just need to accept her. Invite her in and welcome her."_

_Buffy glanced at Charlie. Meeting his eyes for a second she saw that he was leaving everything up to her. But then again the supernatural was, after all, Buffy's area of expertise._

"_She won't harm you," the guide insisted again. "But if you refuse her, she will have nowhere to go, and doing so may disrupt the Slayer Line."_

"_How?" Buffy frowned, shaking her head. "Am I even really 'in' the Line anymore? I mean, I died and Kendra was Called. She died and Faith was Called."_

"_True," Not-Jenny allowed with a small nod, then shook her head again. "But you are still a Slayer. And who knows, maybe that original break in the line is what allowed Sineya to awaken in the first place."_

"_You don't know?" Charlie asked, one eyebrow raised. "Aren't the Powers—"_

"_There's different levels of Power up there," Not-Jenny glanced briefly upward then looked back at them. "The ones that take part in maintaining the Balance are fairly high up, but they're not omnipotent or omniscient." She shook her head at Buffy. "They really expected you to die at the Master's hand. It was written."_

_Buffy smirked and shook her head. "I flunked the written. Sorry."_

_Charlie spoke up again before Not-Jenny could. "So what kind of training are we supposed to get...here?"_

"_Not here," Not-Jenny shook her head. "Sineya will help you train your bond. Mostly in your dreams, if you welcome her. But she will also be able to see through your eyes at all times, so she may ask questions at random."_

"_She'll be able to talk?"_

_Not-Jenny shook her head again at Buffy's question, "She doesn't talk. But she won't have a physical form, she'll be in both of your minds, so she won't need to." She continued before either could interrupt again. "Your bond may be further opened by accepting Sineya, as well, but she should help you control it. At least until you can handle it yourselves. She will also likely effect you in different ways." She nodded at Buffy, "You may find your powers as The Slayer stronger, and may have trouble controlling your strength for a while."_

_Buffy nodded, shrugging at the thought. "I've been through that. Getting stronger's not a bad thing." Then she nodded at Charlie, "Will Sonya—"_

"_Sineya," Charlie corrected._

"_Right, __**Sineya**__," Buffy shot an apologetic look at the statuesque ancient. "Will Sineya affect Charlie at all?"_

_Not-Jenny shrugged. "We really don't know. The Powers weren't sure what affect your bond would have on him specifically. They knew your blood would certainly save him—"_

"_That's why Whistler was there?"_

"_To make everything go smoothly, yes." Seeing the skeptical look on Buffy's face, she added. "The Powers also hoped Charlie would be able to help you recover some of your lost confidence. And they wanted to save Charlie themselves," at the surprised look that crossed the genius's face, Not-Jenny laughed. "You have a very bright future ahead of you, young man. The Powers'd hate to see it lost to a part of the world they never thought you'd encounter."_

"_So they didn't send the vamps there?" Buffy asked quietly, a part of her always having wondered how many strings the Powers That Be could—and would—pull around her._

"_No!" Their guide immediately protested, looking horrified. "Of course not!" she shook her head, and then sighed. "Though there are many evil entities in this world that could have directed the vampires towards him. He has a very clean, bright aura, just like you do. You're both innately very good people."_

"_Except I'm The Slayer."_

"_That doesn't mean you're not a good person, Buffy." Not-Jenny stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. "You're afraid that being the Slayer means losing your humanity."_

"_Doesn't it?" Buffy asked quietly, shaking her head but not moving away when Charlie slipped a gentle arm around her shoulders. "It made me kill A-Angel." She shook her head again, reaching up to swipe with one hand at the tears that were starting to fall. "I loved him so much."_

"_Yes, you did." Not-Jenny nodded, her voice as soft as a whisper but still clearly audible. "But it wasn't The Slayer or Buffy Summers that brought about Angel's death. It was Evil, in the form of Angelus. Evil tested you, your ability to sacrifice, and you defeated it."_

"_But—"_

"_And you can be sure that it certainly isn't something that Angel, himself, would ever hold against you. He understands."_

"_H-He does?" Buffy asked, eyes wide as Not-Jenny nodded._

"_The Powers are taking care of him. But just as Sineya in her true form cannot return to your world, Angel does not belong there, either." The guide continued quickly before Buffy could protest. "You need to move on, child. But that does not mean you need to loose your ability to love. You're so full of love, compassion and hope, even now. It's what allowed you to survive sacrificing so much for the sake of the world and humanity as a whole. What makes you rise to your duty every night and occasionally in the day as well. You love with all your soul. It's brighter than the fire," the guide nodded towards Sineya's campfire, and all three blinked when they saw that the savage-woman had, at some point, sat down Indian-style but was still watching through the flames. Still, Not-Jenny continued, "It's so bright. Blinding. That's why you pull away from it."_

"_I'm full of love?" Buffy murmured after a long moment of silence, releasing a small sigh of long-sought relief as she allowed her head to fall to the side, resting it on Charlie's shoulder. "I won't lose it?"_

"_Only if you reject it," the guide confirmed gently. "In many ways, love is pain and the Slayer forges strength from pain. You must love. And give. And forgive. Risk the pain, knowing the rewards of love and friendship are more then worth it. It is your nature."_

_A heavy silence that could only exist so totally in their imagination hung over and around them for several moments. But then it was suddenly broken._

"_**Um, hey, uh, Sineya, right?"**_ _Faith's voice suddenly echoed around all of them._

_The First Slayer rose fluidly to her feet, her gaze staring upward._

"_**Everything's all right now, so do you think you could let B, um, come back? Please?"**_

_Sineya cocked her head to the side slightly, then turned her gaze back to Buffy and Charlie a clear question in her eyes._

"_Will you accept her?" Not-Jenny asked._

_Buffy looked at Charlie, who nodded, then sighed. She also nodded and stepped forward. "How do we—? Whoa!" She stopped, blinking in shock as Sineya was suddenly right in front of her instead of a few feet away across the campfire._

_The ancient Slayer held out both hands, one towards Buffy and the other towards Charlie._

"_Take her hands," Not-Jenny instructed._

_After a moment's hesitation, Charlie and Buffy both nodded and reached out, gently grasping the dark Slayer's hands in their own._

"_**Hey B, plan on waking up any time soon?"**_ _Faith's voice echoed around them again._

"_Good luck," Not-Jenny murmured, then she disappeared._

_Sineya suddenly tugged both of them forward, making them fall towards her._

_And everything went dark._

_

* * *

_

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_**Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 27, 1996**_

Charlie groaned as an all-encompassing ache made itself known throughout his body. Every single part of his body was so tired that it hurt.

"I think he's awake," a familiar feminine voice murmured, clear worry dominating her tone. "Charlie? Can you open your eyes?"

That was Lily, he thought.

"Should we take him to the hospital?" a not quite as familiar voice asked, also edged with worry.

Alonna. Gunn's sister.

"And tell them what?" Gunn's voice rebuked.

"That he fainted for no reason!" his sister replied.

"_Hush_, you two." An older, and also slightly familiar feminine voice ordered. He felt a pressure on his forehead—a hand, he thought—he hadn't been aware of pull away, to be replaced by a cool wet cloth. "Can you open your eyes, Charlie?"

It took him several long moments of struggling, but he finally managed to force his upper and lower eyelids to part, almost wincing when the faint lighting of the room stabbed into his over-sensitive eyes, but finding he didn't have the strength to spare for a wince. As it was he could barely blink, long slow blinks, to try to help his eye adjust.

A crowd of worried eyes and faces were gathered around him. Devon and Rye were watching from the background, not panicked like Alonna and Lily, who were closer to him, but still clearly worried. Gunn, at first glance, didn't seem to be affected at all by the situation, but after a second of watching him he could see that the older man was very tense, and while his face was almost expressionless, his jaw was clenched and he seemed to be fighting the urge to pace, swaying slightly in pace. Ben, the _House's_ Assistant Managers with EMT-training was hovering to one side, across from the witch. The only person who didn't appear to be overly worried, just concerned, was Constance, who was smiling warmly down at him.

"That's it, Charlie. Good job," the older woman murmured, her tone gentle and calm.

Charlie slowly opened his mouth, pushing his dry, cottony tongue out in an attempt to lick his lips so that he might be able to talk, but Constance shook her head, moving the washcloth on his head down to gently wet his lips for him before moving it back.

"Don't try to talk. You can't waste the energy." At the confused and slightly panicked look she could probably see in his eyes, she shook her head. "You lost almost all of your energy not too long ago, Charlie. Your body barely has enough to maintain its life-sustaining functions."

The witch shifted her shoulders slightly, and he followed the motion to her other hand—the one that wasn't dabbing his forehead with a cool, wet cloth—and saw that it was hovering over his chest, where his heart would be. And it was glowing. Slowly, he made his eyes come back up to meet hers as she continued talking.

"I'm feeding you some of my energy now," Constance told him gently, undoubtedly understanding just how terrible feeling so weak physically would make him feel emotionally. If he had the energy to waste on emotions, which he only barely did.

That was probably why she was trying to keep him calm, at least partially. Didn't want him to waste energy on emotions either.

"Several of my coven sisters are on their way here now," Constance continued, her voice still thoroughly kind. "We'll have you back to normal soon."

"Are you sure we shouldn't take him to the hospital?" Lily asked the older witch, breaking the worried silence the rest of the group had held around him since his eyes had opened.

Constance shook her head, shooting a quick glance at the young House manager as she replied. "No. All they could do is put him on life-support and let his body slowly regain its strength while remaining lost as to how he became so weak in the first place. The coven is better equipped to handle this."

"How long—"

Constance cut off Lily's question part way through, her attention focused back on Charlie. "We're going to give you enough energy to get you home to bed, Charlie. And one of my sister's will also be casting a fairly powerful healing spell on you to help you regain your strength tonight while you sleep. But you'll probably still be exhausted tomorrow, maybe for a few days more." For the first time, what was definitely worry crept across her face. "But you'll have to meet with us on Sunday, nonetheless. Lily will drive you in and we'll all meet here in the afternoon."

"Wh—"

Constance interrupted the witch-in-training again, still completely focused on him. "I'm sure you've been working with your bond to the Slayer to some extent before this, but you're going to have to start training with us regularly. To gain some control of the bond, and hopefully boost your natural energy and recovery time with some magical training."

"I thought the Coven wasn't accepting new students any more?" Lily was frowning at the older witch.

"Dr. Eppes's case is a bit special, Lily," Constance laughed lightly, but her eyes were serious as remained she focused on him. "And it really is necessary. Do you understand, Charlie? Blink once for 'no' and twice for 'yes.'"

It took him several long, tense moments to draw up the strength to move his eyes again, but he eventually managed to drag his eye lids shut and open twice over.

"Good," the witch nodded, changing the cloth on his forehead again for another, cooler and wetter one. "Now close your eyes and get some rest. We'll wake you when it's time for you to go home to bed."

"You know we have plenty of beds here." He heard Lily murmured while he focused on dragging his eyes closed again, struggling to remain calm at just how weak he was. "He could sleep—"

"No," Constance refuted the offer. "The wards we've placed around his home are keyed directly to him, and will help him recover much more then the wards that are here. We have to get him home to bed."

"But his parents don't know about—"

"His parents will just think he's tired from his defense class tonight. And he's sick tomorrow."

"Won't they wonder why?" Gunn interjected and Constance sighed.

"No, most…"

Charlie was sure she kept talking, but whatever she said was lost to him as sleep claimed him again.

* * *

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_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, September 28, 1996**_

Buffy couldn't suppress a moan as the first sign of consciousness insistently seized her attention: an angry little drummer man that was trying to destroy her eyes and everything around them.

"Buffy, sweetie?" her mom's gentle voice called, worry clear in her tone as a familiar, comfortingly cool hand settled on her forehead. "It's okay, honey. Can you open your eyes?"

Buffy moaned again, but forced her eyes to open anyway—struggling a little as her eyelids seemed to have merged slightly since she last opened them—and immediately slammed them shut again when the light tried to perforate her irises. "Owe," she whimpered.

"You have a headache."

Buffy grimaced as her mother's soft, concerned observation became part of her trapped little drummer's painful song, and only just remembered not to nod in reply. Nodding—the occasional migraine she'd suffered from before her Calling to Slayerhood had taught her—hurt much more than whispering. "Yeah," her affirmative croak was almost inaudible, but her mother's sympathetic "hmm" confirmed that the original question was almost entirely rhetorical.

"Here," her mom murmured, voice still soft and gentle. "I was drinking some of your herbal tea, have some while I get some medicine."

After a moment's hesitation Buffy slowly forced her eyes open again, wincing as she just as slowly reached for the steaming mug on her bedside table while her mother hurried away.

"Here, I've got it, B," Faith murmured from right next to her, making her jump and moan again as her brain seemed to shake with the motion. "Sorry," the younger Slayer immediately interjected, softening her startled apology halfway through the word: obviously not accustom to dealing with headache-impaired-Buffy, like Buffy's mom was.

"'S OK," Buffy replied, wincing again even as she slowly forced herself up with her elbows, pushing her body up and back until she was leaning against the headboard, then forced her eyes open again to meekly accept her tea from Faith. A few sips later, she squinted at her sister-Slayer, "What happened?"

Faith flinched, "You don't remember?"

"No I—" Buffy stopped abruptly as her mind suddenly flashed back to big hands and no breath.

"B? B, you OK?"

She was pulled out of her momentary flashback as Faith grabbed her shoulder and she only just managed to flinch away before the younger girl could make the mistake of shaking her and jarring her aching head in the process. "How am I ali—here. How am I here?"

Faith flinched again and then licked her lips, looking down for a moment before sighing as she looked up again. "Um, I-I think your mom's gonna call Giles. He was here earlier, but he went back to the library to check on the others 'bout half an hour ago. Do you wa—"

"I want to know what happened," Buffy cut in, unable to keep a note of irritation from seeping into her tone, and also unable to stop the instinctive wince of pain the sound of her own voice drew from her agonized head. She knew what'd happened between her and Charlie, but what'd happened to monster-Pete?

"OK. OK," Faith held up her hands defensively, wincing sympathetically in response to Buffy's own wince before shrugging helplessly as she let her hands drop down to her sides again, part of her attention still obvious on the half-full mug Buffy was only just managing to hold on to as she sipped at the steaming hot, soothing liquid. "B-But I really don't know what happened. You—I felt—" the brunette stopped, shaking her head in clear irritation, which made Buffy wince again as her growing empathetic senses sensed it.

"Calm down," the older Slayer ordered softly, sighing when the brunette frowned at her in mild indignation. "Please, Faith. Just tell me what you do know," she appealed before taking another sip of the soothing tea her mother had been kind enough to leave her. In the back of her mind she kind of wondered what was taking the older woman so long. Yes, Buffy hadn't had a migraine in years, but the medicine cabinet just down the hall had plenty of meds in it. Still, Buffy didn't really want her mother to come back soon anyway. Her head really, really hurt so meds would be good, but she was more than willing to suffer through it for a little while to get some answers.

"I—" Faith shook her head again, swallowing before she continued. "I was scared." She shook her head again at the confused look Buffy sent her. "N-No, _**I**_ wasn't, at first. I just—I'd just hit wolf-man with the knock-out a-and I felt fine. Little H&H, you know, but fine. Then half a sec later I was just really, really scared and I—" she shook her head again. "I just _knew_ you were in trouble. Told Red and X-man to take care of the wolf and took off. I-I knew where you were. D-Don't know how, but I did. I ran and—I don't even remember the trip in between—I just ran and then I was there and you..."

Buffy waited a moment for her to continue before nervously interjecting, "I what?"

Faith sighed and shook her head again, "Your eyes were glowing and you, you felt different to me. Like, stronger. A lot stronger and a lot more dangerous. Giles said you'd probably woken up the First Slayer, but he didn't know how."

"I don't—" Buffy shook her head, closing her eyes in a minor wince as her brain protested the motion but otherwise ignored it. "I don't remember." Though in the back of her mind, she was starting to suspect what'd happened. If Sineya had 'intervened' like Not-Jenny had mentioned, how far could she really go when doing so?

"Remember what, honey?" her mom asked as she returned, only to blink as both teenagers' eyes flew to her. When neither replied after a long moment's silence she sighed as she moved over to Buffy's bed on the side opposite Faith, holding out a hand that held two large white pills. "Here. Sorry it took so long to find it. We had it packed away under the sink. You haven't had a bad headache in a while."

"No," Buffy agreed quietly as she accepted the painkillers then carefully swallowed one at a time with her tea. "I haven't." She finished off the tea and then relinquished the empty mug to her mother's outstretched hand before asking, "Did you call Giles?"

The elder Summers woman frowned, "No, I didn't. It's after three o'clock in the morning, honey. All of us should get some rest, you especially." She winced as she nodded towards her daughter. "I don't care how fast you're supposed to heal. Those bruises look horrible. And I know you don't like it, and Mr. Giles said it was a bad idea but I still think we should go to the hos—"

"What bruises?" Buffy frowned, unhappy images crossing her mind at a mile a minute even as she quickly sidestepped her mother's hospital speech.

"Ya got some bruises on your throat, B. From where he was choking you, I guess?" Faith told her gently, before raising a hand to tap her own forehead. "Looks like ya got a pretty good bump there too, probably what the headache's from."

"Oh," the blonde replied half-heartedly, not at all reassured by the statement. Visible damage was bad because it meant it was bad enough to take a little while to heal. Most of the bumps, bruises and cuts she got on patrol healed while she was still patrolling, so she wasn't even achy come morning. But bad injuries took longer. She frowned as a thought occurred to her. "How'd we get home, anyway?" she asked, honestly surprised she hadn't woken up in the library—since she'd been knocked out so closed to the school and that's usually where the Scoobies would take her—or the hospital, if her friends were worried enough.

"Carried you," Faith replied, shrugging at the surprised look the blond sent her. "Not like it's hard, B. Super-girls, remember? Strength's not an issue. Might be a little harder for you to carry me since I'm a bit bigger than you, but you're more than strong enough to carry me—or anyone else—for a while, too. I just had to get you to G-Man's car, though, then up the steps from the driveway."

"Yes, it would have been much more difficult for Mr. Giles and I by ourselves," Buffy's mom confirmed with a small smile for the brunette. "Faith's been a big help this evening." Then she frowned at the younger girl. "You should get some sleep, though, Fai—"

"Nah," the brunette shook her head in response. "I've still got a few hours left in me. Why don't you catch some Z's, Mrs. S? I'll watch B for the rest of the night and then you can take over in the morning?"

"I don't need to be watch—"

"Yeah, you do, B." Faith cut in—surprisingly before Buffy's mom could—rolling her eyes when the older Slayer shot a glare at her. "You _do_, B. Head injuries can do all sorts of wacky stuff to you. And if you start shaking we're definitely gonna head to the hospital. Now that you've come out of your little coma, we're gonna start waking you every hour, too. Just to be safe."

Buffy watched her mom nod, tiredly, in agreement.

"She's right, Buffy." Then the older blonde looked at Faith. "I'll try to get some sleep. Wake me if—"

"Anything happens, got'ch'ya," Faith nodded, shooting the older woman a warm smile that looked a little odd from the younger teen, since most of the smile's Buffy'd seen on her face were either meant to be seductive when she was partying or were a result from successful Slayings, extremely excited with the same sexual undertone. "Sleep tight, Mrs. S."

"Thank you, Faith." Then her Mom smiled at her too, "Sleep well, Buffy."

"Night, Mom." Buffy waited a few seconds after her Mom left, until she heard the older woman rummaging around in her own room, getting ready for bed, before she turned her eyes back to Faith. "Wh—"

"You should really be gettin' some rest, B." Faith cut her off softly, and shrugged when Buffy frowned at her. "'Sides, you already know most everything I know. I mean, I could try to tell ya some of the things G-man said, but I really didn't get most of it."

"What about Sineya?"

"One of the scariest things I've ever seen," Faith replied immediately, then frowned at her. "How did you—" then she shook her head, and nodded towards Buffy's nearby back-pack. "Your secret phone vibrated once a few hours ago, by the way. 'Bout an hour after we got you back here."

Buffy nodded, knowing Charlie had probably woken up before her. "Did you—"

"I didn't answer it. Didn't even look for it," the younger Slayer reassured her, shaking her head again. "And really, B, couldn't you at least go to sleep for a little while? Only thing that's gonna change if you get a few more hours shut eye is that you'll feel better when you interrogate all of us in the morning."

Buffy chuckled softly, then sighed as she let her eyes fall shut. "Fine. Good night, Faith."

"Night, B."

_

* * *

_

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, September 28, 1996**_

Charlie frowned as listened to the phone ring, waiting for it to be picked up while hoping he'd found the right number. Annie wasn't answering her phone, and he didn't know if Mrs. Summers knew anything about him.

"_Hello?_" an older man's voice—tinted ever-so-slightly with a British accent—finally answered after the fourth ring. Annie's Watcher, at the very least, now knew about him from the analysis he'd sent the Slayer yesterday to help their friend, Oz.

"Hello, is this Dr. Giles?"

"_Yes, to whom am I speaking?_"

"Good afternoon, Dr. Giles. This is Charles Eppes, I believe A—Buffy introduced you to some of my work recently?"

After a moment's silence, the Englishman replied smoothly, "_Ah, Dr. Eppes, yes. Thank you for your help. Young Daniel was most relieved by it._"

"You're very welcome," Charlie replied, smiling slightly. "I'm glad to help..." Then he trailed off into another moment of silence, not entirely sure of how he wanted to continue this.

"_Can I help you with something?_"

"Uh, yes," Charlie replied, nodding as he struggled to find how he wanted to explain this. "Did, um, did Buffy tell you how we met?"

"_Not yet, no. I'm afraid we've all been a bit distracted lately. And Miss Summers is still a little under the weather._"

"She's sick?" Charlie's frown deepened. Though that was part of the reason he'd finally decided to call his friend's Watcher, he'd been hoping she just wasn't answering her cell phone because she'd forgotten to charge it or something similar.

"_She had a very rough night, I'm afraid._"

Charlie nodded again, his frown deepening as he brought his free hand up to rub the space between his eyes for a moment, the dull headache he'd had all day—accompanied by various other aches all over his body—had easily convinced his parents that he had the flu. It made sense that Annie wouldn't be feeling that well either, she was the one that was in the near-death situation in the first place. "Is she all right?"

"_She will be,_" the older man reassured him, his voice taking a slightly gentler, warm tone for a moment then he'd been using previously. "_Is that why you're calling?_"

"Um, yes. She wasn't answering her phone or email, so I was worried."

"_No one was answering the phone?_" Now Giles sounded worried. "_Her mother and Faith should be there, when did—_"

"Oh, no, not her house phone. Her cell phone, sorry."

"_Her cell phone?_"

Charlie winced again as he realized Annie hadn't told anyone about her mobile phone. "Yeah, her mobile phone. I gave her one before she left so that we could keep in touch." He hurried on, hoping to sooth any hurt feelings the Watcher might have at his charge's neglecting to tell him about the tool. "I think she only uses it for that, since most of her friends don't have cell phones. And she has it off a lot of the time, but usually she returns my calls within at least a few hours. So I was worried."

"_I see._"

Despite the shortness of the statement, Charlie was relieved to note that the older man didn't sound hurt anymore. And he also sounded warmer again as he continued.

"_Well, Buffy will be resting for most of the weekend, but she should be back on her feet by Monday in time for school, which will undoubtedly vex her to some extent, but there you have it._"

Charlie laughed, "Yeah, missing the weekend will probably annoy her. Still, it could be worse."

"_Indeed,_" Giles sighed in agreement. After a moment's pause he continued, "_Is there anything else?_"

"Um, yes, actually." Charlie bit his lip for a moment, not sure if this was a good idea—as in Annie might not like it—but he thought it should be done. "Do you know of any time next week I could possibly meet with, um, you and all of A—Buffy's other friends?" He hurried on before the older man could reply. "Not for an emergency or anything like that, I just thought it'd be nice to get to know everyone she's talk about. And maybe give her the chance to talk more about the last few months."

"_Yes, that might very well be a good idea. After Buffy has recuperated, of course._"

"Of course," Charlie immediately agreed, then bit his lip for a second of thought, before continuing. "So you figured out who killed, um, the boy in the woods?"

He waited for several long seconds while Dr. Giles figured out how much he could entrust Charlie—a very intelligent stranger the Watcher knew only through an analysis his Slayer had handed him that very morning—before the older man finally sighed. Maybe not deciding he was trustworthy, but at least deciding he deserved to know something after all the work he'd put into the problem.

"_Yes, actually. We did. Or, to be more precise, Buffy did. She was able to stop the monster from killing his intended second victim._"

"Was it some kind of demon?"

"_No,_" the Watcher sighed, "_actually it was another student. Pete Clarner.*_" (3)

"He was a demon?"

"_Not precisely, no. He was more of a changeling, or actually, I suppose mutant is the best word, one under the demonic influences of the nearby Hellmouth. Though the mutation itself was originally brought on by his own instruments._"

"What instruments?"

"_Mr. Clarner was apparently a very gift chemist. According to Oz, the young man had done exceedingly well in all of his science classes until this year._"

"What changed this year?"

Again the Watcher sighed, "_Willow and Oz were able to find Mr. Clarner's lab books, and from what I can tell he'd mixed a number of chemicals. Some of his additions were mystical in nature, which may have attracted the Hellmouth's attention, but the primary ingredients were steroids similar to testosterone, attempting to make himself stronger._"

"AAS's, you mean?" Charlie asked after a moment's thought.

"_Pardon?_"

"Anabolic-androgenic steroids*," the mathematician elaborating, struggling slightly to remember the exact terms from the numerous science courses he'd taken over the years. That statistics associated with them were, of course, easy. The names and histories, not quite so much. "They're steroids for building up muscles by increasing protein synthesis within cells." (4)

"_Yes, I believe that it was something along those lines. Though Oz and Willow are honestly much more adept at reading such material then I am. It's been a number of years since I took any chemistry classes and I've had little use for them since._"

Charlie chuckled, "Understandable. My weakness is English, specifically spelling, which I wish was something I could do without, but luckily spell-check has been invented."

"_Quite,_" now Dr. Giles chuckled, clearly amused. "_I could have Willow copy Mr. Clarner's notes and send them to you through the, um, Internet, if you'd like?_"

Charlie blinked, surprised by the offer, but then quickly nodded and replied, "_I'd appreciate that, thank you._"

"_No, thank you. Further understanding of exactly what Mr. Clarner did may help us ensure it doesn't happen again. What's more, Willow—who was kind enough to help me research your credentials and whatnot—is very eager to meet you._" Dr. Giles sighed. "_It is very likely, of course, that his extreme reaction only occurred because he was making the concoction and treating himself with it directly over the Hellmouth, but that's all the more reason we should know what to watch for to see that it doesn't happen again._"

"Of course," Charlie nodded easily in agreement. "I'll take a look at them as soon as I get them." After a moment he sighed, "It's sad though. AAS drugs were originally created to help people fight cancer and AIDS, stuff like that. It's only when abused that the steroids lead to violence, mania and psychosis."

Dr. Giles also sighed, "_Yes, that is a pity,_" he agreed. "_Oz was friends with Mr. Clarner's girlfriend, and believes Mr. Clarner may have been afraid of loosing the young lady. But thanks to his concoction he ended up killing her._"

Charlie winced, half-afraid to ask how Annie handled that, knowing how hard she took her duty and the all too frequent occasions when she couldn't save someone. "Is Buffy okay with what happened?"

"_With wha—Actually, I hadn't really thought to ask. She was still quite tired when I spoke to her just before noon today. I will have to check though. She's likely to be feel quite guilty when she realizes she killed Mr. Clarner as well, for he was essentially human._"

"But you said the Hellmouth—"

"_Almost certainly influenced the course of events, yes. Whether it was the negative—demonic, really—energies it radiates effecting his emotions, or on the potion itself, or many of those any many other factors combined. Still, he was originally human. Though thankfully the Council has agreed label him mutationally-demonic to let the matter slide._"

Charlie frowned deeply at the last comment. "What'd you mean? Why would the Council care—"

"_The Slayer is not supposed to harm human beings, Dr. Eppes—_"

"Call me Charlie, um, or Charles," the mathematician interjected, adding the last as he sensed the slightly more formal first name might be more comfortable for the Watcher. While a part of him didn't want to hear where Dr. Giles explanation was going, the rest of him too curious to stop listening.

"_Charles,_" Dr. Giles agreed graciously. "_The Slayer is supposed to protect human beings, not hurt them, and certainly never kill one. There are, in fact, certain procedures in place for just such an unfortunate event. But as I said, the Council has ruled that the influence of the Hellmouth on the potion rendered Mr. Clarner demonic._"

"How kind of them."

"_Quite._" Dr. Giles agreed, though it didn't sound quite as sincere as his earlier use of the word had. After a moment's silence, he asked, "_Is there anything else I can do for you, D—Charles?_"

"No, thank you, Dr. Giles. But could you please ask Buffy to call me when she's feeling better? And maybe get back to me on a good time to visit?"

"_I would be delighted,_" the older man agreed. "_Though I must add one more thing._"

"Yes?" Charlie asked, a part of him knowing what was coming next even before the usually mild-mannered Englishman started speaking, the collected, solicitous tone he'd been speaking with disappearing to give way to a much harder, ice-edged tone.

"_Just a small warning that is undoubtedly not necessary but must be said nonetheless. I am Buffy's Watcher and she is my Slayer, and also my ward. I will always protect her to the best of my ability, limited as it may in some cases be. If you harm her in any way, the Council has numerous resources at its disposal to ensure your body will never be found. As do I._"

Charlie blinked at the icy threat, then let a wide smile spread across his face as he replied. "Well, my brother's an FBI agent, so that might be a bit more difficult then you'd expect, but I do appreciate the sentiment. And I'd never hurt Annie."

"_Annie?_" the warning-voice abruptly disappeared, replaced by confusion.

"Sorry, she was going by her middle name this summer. I still call her Annie most of the time. But I'd never, ever, hurt her, Dr. Giles."

After another moment of silence the Watcher replied, "_Please call me Rupert. Or Giles if you'd prefer, as Buffy and her friends do._"

"It's nice to meet you, Rupert," Charlie replied warmly, smiling as he received a similar note of warmth in the older man's reply.

"_And you as well, Charles. I shall have Willow email Mr. Clarner's note to you early in the week, and shall find specific time for your visit in the near future._"

"Thank you, Rupert."

"_Not at all, Charles. It was a pleasure speaking with you, and I look forward to meeting you in person._"

"Me too. Goodbye."

"_Good day._" *(8)

* * *

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_**High School Courtyard, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996**_

Buffy sighed as she forced herself to walk normally under Faith's concerned gaze. "You really didn't have to come with me, you know."

"Hey I've gotta report in too, don't I?" the brunette asked, her tone showing none of the worry that Buffy could see in her eyes and feel with her empathetic senses.

"You haven't reported in before now?" The older Slayer raised an eyebrow, but only spared the brunette a quick glance before moving her eyes forward again, not wanting to risk tripping or anything similar with how sore her body still was. All of the visible injuries—AKA the bruises around her neck and her concussion—had healed in the last twenty-four hours, but she was still really, really tired. And achy. Kind of like she had the flu, except she didn't. And thankfully she was only nauseous when the far too many concerned people she knew tried to make her eat something. Though her Mom's soup was still OK. And her tea. Buffy'd had a lot of chicken-noodle-soup, green tea and orange juice in the last thirty-six hours or so.

"Nah, too busy playin' poker with you and Mrs. S, remember?"

Buffy chuckled and nodded. How could she forget? That was the only thing they'd been able to come up with that her Mom didn't think tired her out too much. They'd tried watching a movie, but the maniacal return of her lurking migraine had quickly dismissed that idea. But card games had been OK. And board games. And naps. Lots of naps.

"Hey, what's your puppy dog doing at school on a Sunday?"

Buffy blinked, then followed Faith's gaze to where Scott Hope was standing in front of the small memorial that had already been put up for Pete Clarner and Debbie Weeks*. (5)

That was something that the school—or maybe just some of the student body, she guessed—had started doing this year. Putting up memorials for the peers that they lost. The memorials were never there long, only a few days. And still, not much was ever said about the ones that were attacked by vamps and whatnot. But at least people were paying attention to the fact that someone that was supposed to be there, going to school with them, wasn't. Because they were dead.

"Um, hey, do you think—"

"I'll wait inside," Faith cut her off, before moving ahead of her with an easy walk that made Buffy a little envious. "Just don't make me wait too long, K?" she requested over her shoulder, and Buffy nodded.

"OK." Then she frowned, stopping for a second to gain her bearings before making her way over to the boy that had been asking her out for the last two weeks. She sighed when she got over to him, to see him just sitting there, staring at his friends pictures. "Hey."

Scott blinked, then looked up at her, clearly only just having become aware of her presence. "Oh, hi Buffy."

"Not sure what to say," The Slayer offered after a moment's silence, shrugging apologetically when he frowned at her. "Everything I think of sounds really stupid or obvious."

Scott shook his head, his eyes going back to the pictures of the departed. "I've been friends with them, with both of them, since before we started school. Before pre-school, even."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Scott glanced at her again, this time a little longer. Then he shook his head and sighed. "No. Thanks. I'll be OK, in a little while." He shrugged, then a deep, serious frown crossed his face. "It just made me realize..."

Buffy frowned when he trailed off, raising an eyebrow as she asked curiously. "What?"

"You just never really know what's going on inside somebody, do you? I mean, you think if you care about them..." He shook his head, eyes closing for a moment in a clear expression of grief. "But you never really know."

After a short pause Buffy sighed too. "No, I guess you don't." She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, "Take care, Scott. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Bye, Buffy."

Then she moved off towards the library, one hand already in the coat pocket that she kept her phone in when she didn't feel like carrying her purse somewhere.

_

* * *

_

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_**Angels' House, Los Angeles, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996**_

Charlie sighed as he sank into one of the lobby's comfortable chairs. "I really don't know what to tell you, Annie. I mean, it's understandable that you feel bad for him. It's natural. He just lost his best friends," he sighed again, while shaking his head. "But you shouldn't feel guilty."

"_I killed—_"

"Technically _Sineya_ killed a demon using your body. Pete Clarner had turned himself into a monster. It's very sad, but both Debbie's death and his death are _Clarner's_ fault. Not yours."

"_But if I'd been faster Debbie—_"

"If you hadn't gone on a walk in Pasadena after midnight on the third of June, I'd be dead. If you hadn't seen Willow leave the Bronze with a vampire the night you met her, she'd probably be a vampire. If—" Charlie shook his head again, sighing as he cut himself off and continued, his voice firm with a resolve that came from somewhere deep inside of him. "_If_ isn't something we can live with, Annie. You, especially, can't even let yourself think it."

After a long moment of silence Annie finally sighed, and he knew she was nodding. "_Yeah, I guess. I know. It's just... hard. You know?_"

The mathematician nodded in agreement, part of him wondering if she could sense it over the bond like he could. "Yeah." Then he turned slightly, his attention caught by the sound of laughter from a group of kids gathered around the air hockey table in the next room, clearly visible from the _House's_ lobby through the wide doorway. He smiled as he continued over the phone, "But you _can't_ focus on that, OK? Focus on the lives that've been saved. They matter just as much as the ones that have been lost, don't they?"

"_Yeah,_" Annie agreed readily, and he knew she was smiling softly now. "_How're you feeling?_"

"Good," he answered honestly, continuing before she could question it. "I mean, I'll still go to bed early tonight and I'll probably sleep in tomorrow, but I'm up and functioning. Though escaping my parents this morning, even with Lily's help, was kinda hard."

Annie laughed, "_I can imagine. How're your Mom and Dad doing? And Lily? An—_"

"They're great," Charlie cut in before she could get going. "Dad just started working on a new project, so he's happy. It's a big one, which means it'll pay a lot. And the planning stage is always one of his favorite parts anyway. And Mom won her most recent court case pretty easily."

"_The guy that was suing his old boss?_"

"For workplace negligence, yeah. He had plenty of evidence against them even without his injury, so Mom was really surprised they didn't just settle beforehand, but it ended up being better for her client anyway. And it meant Mom got more money, too." Charlie confirmed, then blinked as something flew by him, missing his face by barely an inch.

"Sorry, Doc!" one of the kids from the arcade nodded to him as he ran by to pick up the air hockey puck that had bounced off of the far wall after shooting off the table and all the way across the room.

Charlie glanced at the table, then at the puck again before shaking his head, shooting the kids a small smile and watching as they started up again while he kept talking into his phone. "Sorry. Got distracted."

"_What happened?_"

Charlie chuckled, "I think our local air hockey players are getting a little over competitive."

"_Our—When did the _House _get an air hockey table?_"

"Oh, sorry, I thought Lily told you. A few weeks ago, even before we'd driven you home, actually, someone bought a bunch of arcade equipment from a local arcade that was going out of business and donated it to the _House_."

"_Oh. That was nice of them. Who was it?_" the Slayer asked curiously.

"I have no idea, you'd have to ask her. I just play with the numbers, remember?"

Annie laughed, "_You do a little more than that, Charlie. You're gonna be teaching a bunch of 'em soon, aren't you?_"

"Well, yeah, but Karen and Jen had a lot more to do with setting that up then I did."

"_Oh? They went around making deals with gang leaders to get their gangs into the classroom?_"

"Well, no, but I didn't—"

"Y_ou got Gunn's gang in, which means you'll probably get a lot of others that otherwise wouldn't be there. That's what Lily and Karen think, at least. Oh, and how'd your first defense class go, anyway? Before, um, you know?_"

"Painfully," Charlie sighed, carefully stretching out his shoulders again to see if the soreness was still there and wincing as he discovered for what might be the hundredth time that day that it hadn't magically gone away. "I'm still aching in parts of my body I didn't know _could_ ache."

Annie laughed, "_Did you take any of the tonic? Or the tea?_"

"Yes and yes. I think they helped."

"_Well, I still say you should've waited for my package to get there._"

"The one you won't tell me the contents of?"

"_Yeah. That one._"

"Just so we're on the same page," Charlie rolled his eyes, then winced as the motion reminded of him of just how much his head had hurt the night before with an ache that stabbed through his temples and then back again. He sighed, one hand coming up to rub gently at his sinuses, praying his headache would stay away. "Oh, and I heard you spoke to Gunn recently?" he remarked, effectively deterring Annie from asking about how he was feeling any more.

"_Uh, last week, yeah. 'Bout the Watch and stuff,_" the Slayer replied, her tone superbly neutral considering she probably hadn't wanted him to know about that.

"And stuff?"

"_Yeah. Stuff... So, what'chya gonna be teaching your captive class?_" Annie asked, her tone taking a distinctly teasing turn. "_After all, you can torture 'em all you like for payback._"

Now Charlie had to laugh, and shake his head. "_I want them to learn, Annie. And for that they need to like my class enough to work at it._"

"_Spoilsport."_ Annie sighed, before continuing seriously. "_So everyone's OK there?"_

Charlie nodded, smiling warmly. "We're all fine, Annie. Are you feeling better? Seriously."

The Slayer sighed. "_I think I'm over fifty-percent now. My injuries are gone, but I'm still sore, too. And a little sad, but OK."_

"Excuse me, Doctor Eppes?"

Charlie glanced up, warm smile still dominating his face, to see Jen, the youngest of the _House_'s 'Walkers' waiting for his attention.

The Walkers essentially did the same thing the demon Ken had done, in going around the city and offering help to homeless people and really anybody in need. Except they really were offering help. To anyone and everyone that needed it.

"Um, Annie, I'm really sorry but I've gotta go. I'll talk to you again sometime in the next few days, all right?"

"_Oh, yeah. Whoa, sorry I hadn't noticed how much time'd passed. I should go too, Faith's probably gettin' pretty bored._" Annie agreed immediately, and the speed of her response made Charlie's smile slip into a small frown.

"You're sure you're OK?"

"_Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Charlie. I'll talk to you tomorrow night, OK?_"

"OK, Bye Annie."

"_Bye._"

Charlie sighed as he shut his phone and slipped it into his pocket, turning his full attention to Jen with a small frown as he rose from the far too comfortable chair he knew he'd occupied for more than a half hour. "Are Constance and the other ladies from _Aquelarre_ _del Plata_ here already?" he asked, glancing momentarily towards the _House_'s main entrance before shaking his head and turning back to the Walker. "I didn't see them come in. Did they c—"

"No, they're not here yet, Doctor," the older-looking brunette finally cut him off, her long, straight hair drawn back into a ponytail that swished back and forth as she shook her head. "But Lily wants to see you about a, um, a guest. They're in her office."

Intrigued, Charlie nodded and started towards the nearby staircase but then stopped to frown back at Jen again and shake his head. "Jen, I've told you to call me Charlie."

The young woman who'd been born two years after he was but was sadly now more than a decade older—thanks to Ken and his brethren—shook her head and smiled at him as she asked, "And what's the point of all those extra years of college you took if you don't want to be acknowledged with the right title, Doc?"

Charlie blinked, his frown twisting a little as his eyes narrowed. "That's not going to be a nickname now, is it?"

Jen laughed and shrugged towards the nearby gaming room, where the kids were still playing, though they'd all dispersed to different games now with only a few gathered around the ever-popular air hockey table. "Hey, Terry said it first." Then she waved goodbye and headed towards the nearby door, undoubtedly headed to start her own patrol.

While the Watch looked for threats later in the evenings, the Walkers looked for those that'd be threatened, trying to find as many as they could before the sun went down. Most Walkers then joined one of the Watch's patrols, which had grown considerably with the addition of Gunn's semi-professional group and volunteers from many other gangs.

Charlie sighed and slowly started on his was up the stairs to see what Lily wanted.

* * *

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_**Giles's House, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996**_

Buffy sighed, carefully keeping her face blank as she did so. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to grimace in annoyance or grin in amusement, but figured neither one would really work here, so she went with blank. "Faith, I really don't need a babysitter. I might not be back up to patrol speed yet, but I'm not gonna keel over either."

"I know, B, but—"

"Seriously. Do your pre-sunset patrol. I'll be fine getting home by myself. It's not like its far. And I'll even promise to let Giles give me a ride if he really, really wants to."

After a moment the brunette nodded, "OK. I'll see you when I get back then?"

"You bet," Buffy agreed with a nod as she watched the younger Slayer head for the door. "Be careful."

"Ha!" Faith shot her a quick grin as she opened Giles' front door. "Careful? Where's the fun in that? Later, G-man! Bye B!" Then she was through the doorway and the door swung shut behind her before Buffy could respond.

Buffy sighed again.

"Well, she certainly has plenty of zest," Giles mild comment drifted out of his kitchen and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"You know she was complaining about you not being in the library on the way over here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you're supposed to be there when we look for you there."

"Surely you know by now that more often then not I spend most Sunday afternoons at home?"

Buffy shrugged, "How would I know what you do on Sundays when we're not worried about the world ending, Giles? If the world's not ending sometime soon, I don't see you between my report before patrolling Saturday night and Monday morning."

"Quite," the Watcher seemed to find that funny, cause he kept his voice 'mild' but she was definitely picking up some amusement with her newest sense.

"Well Faith thinks you should live in the library."

Now the Watcher actually chuckled, "Now I'm quite certain you're embellishing, my dear girl. Would you care for some cream or sugar?"

"Yeah, one sugar, please."

Giles continued from inside the kitchen, while he took the cream out of the fridge, put some in the tea and then put it away before he opened the sugar canister that she was sure he'd set the steeping tea cups next to. She knew he had, because he always did. "You must have realized before now, Buffy, that you and Faith have very different temperaments."

Buffy snorted, kind of wondering how she might have reacted to Faith if she hadn't known the younger Slayer was coming beforehand and couldn't sense the two-faced teenagers real emotions. "I guess." She shook her head, glancing towards the kitchen door as her Watcher finally came through it, a tray baring two steaming mugs in hand. She accepted hers with a nod, "Thanks."

"Not at all, my dear," Giles shook his head, offering her a warm smile as he moved around the coffee table to sit down in the seat directly across from her after setting the tea-ware laden tray down. "Now, what would you care to discuss first?"

Buffy blinked, "Huh?"

"Well, as best I as I can decide," the librarian continued after taking a sip of his tea. "You're either here to report about your most recent venture against the, uh, forces of darkness in the form of Mr. Clarner's fiend-form." He continued without giving her a chance to respond when she winced at Pete's name. "Or you're here to talk about something else. Perhaps your time away from the Hellmouth?"

"Uh, yeah, about that..." Buffy trailed off for a moment, then winced as a new thought occurred to her. "Uh, how much of this do you report?"

Giles blinked, lowering his teacup from where'd stopped at her question—halfway up to his mouth—and setting it down in its saucer again. "I beg your pardon?"

"To the Council. How much do you report?" At the confused look that was still present in her Watcher's eyes and the faint waves of it her empathetic senses were picking up, Buffy elaborated. "Of my life. How much of my life do you report? Just the slayings, or—"

"Oh, uh well, for the most part yes. Everything you encounter in your patrols, problems and the like. For the most part I keep mention of your daily life down to a minimum, though. Only truly pertinent details and summaries of everything else." The Watcher told her, frowning as he put his meticulously cleaned glasses back in front of his eyes to look at her. "Why do you ask?"

"H-Have you told them about Charlie?"

"Dr. Eppes? Yes, of course. Before the confrontation with Mr. Clarnen, Dr. Eppes's analysis was the only proof we had that our measures for keeping Oz contained while in the form of the wolf had not failed. And his credentials and reputation assured us that his analysis is almost certainly accurate." Giles shook his head, still frowning at her. "I had assumed that that was why you gave them to me, after all."

"And, um, how will the Council—"

"The Council won't do anything to Dr. Eppes, Buffy," Giles cut her off, frowning still as he squinted at her in contemplation. Then he shook his head. "I've no doubt that he will be approached and offered a position within the Watcher ranks, most likely in research. His area of academia is not one the Council has generally paid much mind to before now, but with his addition to our ranks that very well may change." The Watcher shook his head again, "He would not be approached to act as a Field Watcher, such as myself, due to his preeminence in society. After all, he may not quite be someone yet, but he certainly is going to be."

"He's nineteen and he's starting as a college professor in January," Buffy objected, a little miffed at the idea that Charlie was no one even though she really didn't want the Council to think he was anyone. "He graduated from high school when he was thirteen."

"And he may very well be the Einstein of your generation," Giles nodded, apparently deciding it was safe to pick up his teacup again and take a sip of its contents before continuing. "Exactly. What he has already accomplished among mathematicians means he is known, so the Council is unlikely to approach him with a field position because, well—"

"If he's killed too many people might want to know why."

The Watcher sighed again, "Well, to put it bluntly, yes. Although many Watchers enjoy positions of prestige around the world, the vast majority of them are part of a network that is centuries old. They were raised to be Watchers, whereas Dr. Eppes was not. Does his family—?"

"They don't know." Buffy shook her head and sighed also. "His brother's in the FBI, so I don't know if he might hear about the supernatural that way or not, but his Mom and Dad never even asked how he was injured the night we met."

"He was—"

"A vamp got him, yeah. Three of 'em talked their way into his house and attacked him. I was walking by and stepped in, but he'd already lost a lot of blood so I had to call an ambulance."

"Did all three vampires feed—"

"Ewe, no. Only one of 'em. The other two cheerleaders from hell—" at his confused look she elaborated, "They were all dressed up as cheerleaders for one of the junior high schools. There was a Master-Vamp near there that was grabbing kids at the afterschool practices and turning 'em. I found him a few weeks after Charlie and I got out of the hospital." Then she winced at the sharp look that took over her Watcher's face.

"You were injured?"

"No, I uh, his Mom and Dad weren't home. They were in Europe and I didn't want to leave him alone, so," Buffy shrugged. "I went with him."

"And willingly stayed in the hospital for more than a week?" Giles raised an eyebrow at her, and shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't believe that, Buffy. Ignoring the dangers of allowing yourself to be tied to the injuries associated with vampires—which is why you're supposed to call for help and leave—you've never much cared for medical institutions."

Buffy sighed again, suppressing the urge to wince at what she knew her Watcher's reaction was going to be when she told him, "He needed blood."

"Well, yes, that's why he needed to go to the hospital after beings attacked by vampires," the Englishman replied, obviously not making the jump in logic she was expecting him to so she expounded.

"The, uh—Charlie has a rare blood type. The hospital didn't have any of it 'cause of—" she frowned slightly, then hurried on as she saw the expected thought click as Giles' eyes narrowed. "Actually I don't remember why they didn't have it. But Charlie needed blood."

"Buffy—"

"You said all Slayers are universal donors, why would we be if we weren't supposed to donate blood when it was needed? And Whistler said the Powers That Be were _for_ it!"

Her Watcher was silent for several long moments, frustration plainly warring with confusion across his face before he sighed again. He finished what was left in his teacup and set it back in its saucer, reaching for the still steaming teapot in the middle of the tray he'd set up and pouring himself another cup. His glance at her still almost full cup made her reach for it and take a sip of the still pleasantly warm liquid while he finished mixing his cup of tea. Then he took a sip and leaned back in his chair, stirring the contents of his cup slowly as his eyes came back to hers. "Did you know Dr. Eppes before that night?"

"No, that's when I met him."

Giles nodded like he'd expected that answer even as he asked another question. "Why, then, did you feel it was so important that you saved him? You knew nothing about him, correct?"

"Well, no. I'd been talking to his mom on the phone, to help fill out papers, but—" Buffy shook her head, taking a quick but long sip of tea before setting the now half-empty china cup down and flopping back in her seat. Then she shook her head. "I don't know. I just had to save him. I had to."

After a moment the Watcher nodded, taking another sip of tea before setting the cup down again and continuing. "And?"

Now Buffy sighed, "Now we can sense each other. Mostly just when—"

"A blood bond formed?" The Watcher's eyebrows came together with a nearly audible click of consternation. "Buffy, if that's the case the Council—"

"I _don't_ want the Council to know, Giles! I don't know the Council, so I certainly can't trust them with Charlie's safety." The Slayer shook her head, "We already talked with some witches in LA and all of them agreed that cutting our bond would only hurt us. But after what happened Friday night—"

"Something happened to Dr. Eppes as well?"

"Yeah," Buffy sighed again, looking down as she went on in a resigned tone. "He knew I was in trouble a-and then he collapsed. One of the witches we know said Sineya took all his strength to save me. She barely left enough to keep him alive." After several seconds of tense silence, the blonde looked up with a frown and then blinked at the completely shocked expression on her Watcher's face. "Giles? Are you OK?"

The Watcher nodded slowly but the shocked look didn't leave his face and he kept staring at her as he replied. "S-Sineya? Th-The First Slayer?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy winced, smiling apologetically in response. "Sorry. Apparently when Charlie and I bonded we woke up a piece of her. A sleeping memory or something like that's been part of the Slayer-line for, um, forever, I guess. So now she's—I don't know, tied to both of us and, um, yeah."

"I h-had thought when Faith said an older Slayer had possessed you that it may have been Sineya, but—" Giles shook his head and thought about that for a moment, before nodding. "Can you sense Sineya at all times, as well or is she only awakened when you—or, I assume, Dr. Eppes—are in danger?"

Buffy thought about that, closing her eyes and trying to sense the changes her bond with Charlie had undergone. After a moment she nodded when the answer came to her with the distinct note of her predecessor's presence. "She's still there. I don't think she's always there though. I'm not sure if she goes to sleep or if sometimes she pays more attention to Charlie, or what, but I know she wasn't watching until just now." Buffy smiled as she sensed a small wave of confusion from the other Slayer as she watched Giles. "She doesn't know what to think about you."

"Oh no?" Giles asked, then nodded again as his intelligent mind grasped the reason before Buffy could voice it. "But of course. The Watchers did not exist until long after she had passed on... Does she not know of us through the other Slayers that have been Called before you?"

Buffy thought for a moment, deliberately giving Sineya time to respond also before shrugging. "Not really. I don't think she was ever actually active before now. Not since her death, anyway."

"I see. How very interesting," the Watcher nodded again as he asked. "And do you know if Sineya would have the same reaction if Dr. Eppes were endangered?"

"Would she protect him? Yeah," Buffy didn't even have to give the ancient Slayer a chance to make her response known. That answer was instinctive, already fully embedded in her psyche and one she knew Sineya shared. "I don't know if she'd be able to do the same thing, but she'd definitely do something."

Giles nodded again, obviously expecting that answer. Then he sighed, "I dislike keeping this information from the Council, Buffy, if only—" he raised a hand to gently forestall her protests as he continued, "if only because it greatly reduces the resources at my disposal to help you, and Dr. Eppes, adjust to this connection. And as it has already impacted your Calling that could be dangerous."

"Sineya saved my life, Giles. I mean," Buffy shook her head, "I really don't like that she had to hurt Charlie—" She winced as a strong protest rang through her mind, "sorry, weaken Charlie—but—"

"She's speaking to you?"

"No. She doesn't really use words. I just get emotions from her most of the time and, um, I guess you could call it confirmation and denial when I ask her questions. But that's not—"

Giles cut her off again, his tone gentle, "I am most grateful for her intervention on this most recent occasion, Buffy. However, the dual nature of the bond could also endanger you. If her reaction to Dr. Eppes being in danger is to take all your strength to protect him, what happens if he's threatened while you're on patrol or fighting a demon?"

The Slayer sighed. "We were gonna start training soon. Trying to, at least. Charlie's gonna be working with some of the Covens in LA and," she shrugged. "I thought you could help me."

Giles nodded, smiling softly. "I would be delighted." Then he sighed, shaking his head. "Though it is fortunate Dr. Eppes is planning on visiting us soon. Much of the training for a bond such as this must be done with the other half at close range, with the bond unstrained."

"Wait, Charlie's not—how do you—"

"Dr. Eppes was concerned for your well-being yesterday and, not having been introduced to your mother or Faith, decided to call me. Undoubtedly assuming that having received his analysis from you I would recognize him as a friend."

Oh." Buffy let that sink in a moment, frowning. "So you and Charlie talked."

"Yes."

"'Bout what?" the blonde asked, her eyes slightly narrowed.

Giles chucked and waved a hand before reaching for his teacup with that same hand. "Oh, this and that," he murmured, his soft smile in place again as he took a sip of his tea, shooting another pointed glance towards her cup.

Obeying the silent command, Buffy picked up her half-empty cup of lukewarm tea and quickly finished it off before putting it back down again and returning her full attention to her Watcher. "So Charlie's coming here?"

"At some time in the near future, yes. You'll have to discuss the actual timing with him." Her Watcher was silent for a moment, then he added. "If you'd like, he's welcome to use my guestroom during his stay. I should like to get to know him."

Buffy shook her head, "I'll ask Mom. We have another guestroom, though, so we probably won't need to—but thank you."

"You're quite welcome." Giles nodded again as he rose and moved his teacup to his tray of chinaware, waiting for Buffy to follow his example before sweeping the dishes away into the kitchen, where he set the tray on the counter by the sink before returning to his living room.

Buffy leaned back in her chair, sighing in relief as she listened to Giles clean up in the kitchen, the familiar sounds clinking together in a comfortable rhythm as she waited for him to come back out. After all, they still had a bit more to talk about...

_

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996**_

Charlie suppressed a sigh as he watched Lily calm their guest down and talk her into giving them a chance at helping her for the third time in the last thirty minutes.

Denise Williams* was a year younger than him and had dropped out of high school when she ran away from home on her sixteenth birthday. Unlike many of the people the former owners of the land _Angel's House_ resided on had preyed upon though, she hadn't collapsed when faced with the challenges of her independence. And unlike Annie and Lily she hadn't merely survived on her own. She'd thrived. (6)

She'd started her professional career as a dancer and actually been fairly successful. At least enough to support herself after she was legally emancipated. She'd only been in Las Vegas—working primarily as a showgirl—for a few weeks before she was able to join a tour group that then took her to major cities all over the country. While in New York City she'd landed a minor role on Broadway. Afterwards she'd been dragged back west by an agent who got her into a few commercials and some Soap Opera or another. It wasn't until she'd shown her face here in Los Angeles that she'd run into real trouble.

"Hey, hey, honey," Lily was murmuring softly to the younger, teary girl, one arm wrapped comfortingly around shaking shoulders as she led her back to the office's sitting area. "There," she said, after she'd gotten the girl to sit down. "Now, how about we go through what we know so we can see how we can help you, OK?"

"I-I shouldn't be—"

"You _should_ be here. You are here. That's one step in the right direction, OK, sweetie?"

"B-But—"

"We can't help you if you leave, Denise," Lily cut in, her voice still supremely soft even as her words made the weeping brunette wince. "_Please_, help us help you."

"I-I d-don't know," the young actress accepted a tissue from the _House_'s manager with a grateful nod. After blowing her nose she shook her head, looking down at her lap as she continued. "I d-don't know where to start..."

"You're in an abusive relationship?" Lily asked after a moment of silence. Though they'd asked the girl many questions in the last half hour they hadn't gotten many answers out of her. All they knew for sure was that one of the local seers had told a Walker that the dancer's life was in danger. So the Walker—Charlie thought it'd been Mark, but he wasn't sure—had talked the terrified teen into coming here.

After a long moment of almost silence—Denise was still sniffling softly—she nodded. "Y-Yes. No!" then she shook her head, her eyes still focused on her lap while her hands wrung the used-tissue. "N-Not really. He's not my _boyfriend_. He—" she looked up when Lily took the tissue from her and threw it away, to replace it with a new one. Instead of encouraging her the kind act seemed to make her wilt, and she fell back into her chair with a sigh. "I guess he's kinda my Sugar-Daddy." She shook her head forcefully then, hurrying on before either of them could say anything while tears flowed from her eyes. "He wasn't supposed to be! M-Margo said he wasn't interested in sex!"

Lily nodded as she spoke up, her voice still gentle while her question drew the brunette's eyes to her. "But he was?"

Charlie wouldn't have thought it possible, but the teen seemed to wilt again, sinking back even further into her chair and, he guessed, into herself. He tried to think of anything to say to her, but it was all he could do to concentrate on the here and now and not let the girl's terribly powerful emotions overwhelm him.

"He's got a lotta money. M-Margo said he l-likes to help people get s-started in their careers. That's h-how he knows everyone." Denise shook her head, futilely trying to wipe her tears away with the fresh—but already well-mangled—tissue Lily had given her moments before.

"But?"

"At first it was just little stuff, you know? Go to this party with him. But then he kept giving me stuff, and I took it so I-I h-had to—" Denise shook her head again, a look of complete self-disgusted crossing her face for a moment before she sighed and all expression dropped away. "He was really nice at first. Said he wanted to help. He's got money. A lot of it. And he likes hanging out with starlets, like me. I-I think if it was just sex it wouldn't have really mattered. I mean, I could handle it. I-I think."

Charlie couldn't keep a frown off his face as the dancer's emotions continued to escalate, his head already aching from his long and draining weekend and not at all ready to be faced with someone who needed them as much as Ms. Williams did. Unfortunately, she needed them now so he'd have to make due.

"This guy got a name?"

All three turned towards the entrance of Lily's office with a start, to see Gunn leaning back against the closed door, Constance standing next to him.

"Yeah, but you really don't wanna know it," Denise shook her head forlornly. "This is L.A. Guys like him get away with murder."

"Who'd he murder?" Charlie asked, his voice soft—following Lily's example and the blaring warnings he was still getting from his empathetic senses—as he drew all eyes to him.

Denise sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe no one." She sighed again, "He just likes to... he gets really violent." The dancer shook her head, "And he t-talks about pain like it's his best friend."

Charlie winced, biting back a gasp as a wave of pain—remembered agony, he realized—shot through his body, registering on his empathetic senses as Denise closed her eyes at the flashback and dulling a moment later when she opened them again.

"I-I tried to leave him. But he won't leave me alone. Everywhere I go I see him or one of his goons. A-And now I can't get work. Every audition I go to, he's there, talking to the director. And I'm not getting cast in anything. Even the directors that I worked for before I met R—_him_ won't even talk to me!"

Now she was getting angry, which Charlie thought was good. Anger, at the very least, was much better than the pain and despair she'd been feeling moments before.

Lily nodded, "Denise, tell us who he is, please. Then—"

"I-I even tried going to the police but they wouldn't listen. His lawyer showed up and—" the dancer shook her head again, all the anger draining out of her at an almost alarming rate as she dropped back into her seat again. "Before your friend, Mark, dragged me in here I hadn't eaten in two days. He probably thought I was a druggie or something when he found me. I was sitting on a bench a few blocks away, shaking," she shook her head. "It's my blood sugar, I think. I usually don't have problems with it running low, but..."

"Denise," Charlie waited until the girl's eyes met his before he continued. "What's his name?"

After a long moment of silence, the dancer finally answered. "Russell. Russell Winters."

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_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as she waved to her Watcher, watching him drive off for a moment before stepping the rest of the way into her house and closing the door behind her.

Talking about Charlie, Sineya and everything that had happened recently hadn't been easy, but it was nice to get it out there. Nice to know Giles cared enough to ask, even after everything that had happened with Angelus last year.

"Mom, Faith, I'm home!" she called as she turned towards the stairs, wondering where the two were. She'd talked long enough with her Watcher that her sister-Slayer should've been back from her pre-sunset sweep long before now. It was just the right time for dinner, and the younger Slayer probably wouldn't head out on her actual patrol until later this evening. As Charlie'd noticed when Buffy had taken him 'patrolling' there really wasn't much activity before midnight.

"In here, honey," her Mom's voice came from the kitchen and Buffy turned towards the dining room to cut through it, but a riot of color caught the corner of her eye, making her turn towards the living room instead, and blink in surprise.

A gorgeous bouquet a flowers was sitting in her mom's best vase on the coffee table, lighting the whole room up with vibrant colors. The bright autumn-pattern in shades of orange and yellow was broken by pale pink, elegant roses that were artful arranged into the ensemble.

A smile stretched across Buffy's face as she walked over towards it. "Hey, Mom, nice flowers!" she called towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, they're pretty aren't they?" Faith asked as she almost skipped down the staircase. "But your Mom didn't get 'em."

"Huh?" Buffy frowned in confusion, glancing towards the dining room as her Mom came through it from the kitchen.

"They were delivered a little over an hour ago, honey." Her Mom nodded towards the bouquet, smiling as she pointed out. "There's a note, I left it on the table there."

Buffy glanced towards the table and saw that there was, indeed, a small envelope leaning against the side of the vase she wouldn't have seen coming in from the front door. "What, they're for me?"

"No, we've just been waiting for you to get home for the last half-hour for nothing." Faith teased, smirking at her and also nodding towards the note. "Think they're from Hope?"

"Hope?" Buffy's mom asked the two teenagers, frowning in confusion.

"A boy at school that has a crush on B," Faith explained, before shooing Buffy closer to the bouquet. "Come on, see who it's from."

Buffy shook her head at the eagerness her sister-Slayer was radiating, but obediently moved over to pick the card up. Her name was scrawled on the back in a familiar handwriting and she smiled as she remembered the comment she'd made to Charlie a few days before. An offhanded, trivial complaint that he'd apparently taken to heart. And to think she'd thought he hadn't really been listening at the time!

"Aren't you going to open it?" Faith asked and Buffy's smile widened as her mom shushed the younger girl.

The envelope opened easily, none of the paper even ripping as the glue that was supposed to hold it closed gave way to a gentle tug. The small card that came out had a simple '_Get Well Soon_' message on the front. The inside had been left blank, and Charlie had scrawled a brief message there.

_**

* * *

**_

Annie,

_**Thought these might cheer you up.**_

_**Stop**_ _**feeling guilty, none of what happened was your fault.**_

_**Feel better, and remember I'm always just a call away.**_

_**Love, **_

_**Charlie**_

* * *

"_So?_" Faith demanded, the teasing note she was going for broken a little by the fact that she really wanted the answer to her question. "Who's it from?"

"Charlie," Buffy laughed, shaking her head at the simple but comforting gesture.

"Who?" her Mom asked in confusion and Buffy winced as she was reminded of the fact that there were still several people in Sunnydale who knew next to nothing about her summer in L.A.

"The math guy, right?" Faith asked, one eyebrow raised when Buffy looked at her. "Ya think I'm ever gonna meet him?"

"Yeah, actually," Buffy confirmed, glad to have a real answer for that. "I stayed with his family for a while in L.A. this summer. And he's gonna be visiting soon." Giving her mom a hopeful look she asked, "Could he stay here with us? Giles said he could stay with him, but since he's gonna be visiting me shouldn't he stay with us? We still have the other guestroom, you know."

"Oh," her mom blinked, then nodded and smiled warmly. "Of course. When will he be coming?"

"Um," Buffy shrugged, "We're still working on that, actually. Sometime in the next week or so? He starts teaching in the spring, so he has to visit before Christmas, an—"

"Teaching?" Now her mom was frowning again. "How old is he?"

"Oh, he's only nineteen." As surprised and confused looks took over the other two women's faces she explained. "But he's a genius. A real one. So he went through school in, like," Buffy started to do the math then shook her head. "He graduated from high school when he was thirteen and he has a doctorate in math. He's thinking about getting one in physics, too."

"So he's a super-geek," Faith realized, apparently thinking about this for a second then smirking as her thoughts took another turn. "He graduated from high school when he was thirteen, right?"

"Yeah, I just said that."

"Well, that means he was, like, twelve when he went—if he went—to his school Homecoming Dance senior year, right?"

"I guess..."

"That had to suck. You should make him stay around for yours. That's next week, right?"

"Um, yeah," Buffy blinked, surprised to find she really liked the idea and she shrugged. "I guess I'll ask him."

"Ahem," her mom cleared her throat, drawing both Slayer's eyes to her. She held her daughter's for a second and then glanced towards Faith with one eyebrow raised. She did this three times before Buffy figured out what she wanted.

"Oh, you should come too, Faith," the blonde suggested, frowning when her younger counterpart immediately started shaking her head.

"Nah, I figured I'd handle the patrol that night so you can—"

"We don't have to patrol _every_ night, Faith," Buffy told her firmly. "Besides, most of the vamps that come out that night'll be drawn towards the party anyway. That's where all of the party-goers are gonna be." Then she shrugged, "And we can do a quick sweep through down later in the evening after that, anyway."

After a moment Faith shrugged, "I guess. Gotta get to know flower-give'n boy, right?"

"Um, well—"

"OK, I'll go."

"Good," Buffy's mom cut in before the younger blonde could protest Charlie's presence being a reason for going. The older woman shook her head and nodded towards the dining room. "You girls should clean up, and set the table. Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Yes, Mom," Buffy rolled her eyes, but was smiling as she moved into the kitchen behind her mother, quickly washing and drying her hands before moving to the cupboards the grab the plates while Faith got the cutlery and the trio fell into the easy pattern they'd held for a few weeks now.

**End of _Within & Without – Part II._**

**

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**

AN: Hi guys!

**Sorry for the wait. I really didn't think it'd take me that long to write this chapter, but with the trip to New York right before my midterms everything just kinda dragged out. I've also been getting a lot of hours at work lately, which I like because more hours means more money, but it also generally means I'm tired the nights I work, so even if I don't have a lot of class stuff to do, I don't get around to a lot of writing. I did try though, I really focused on pushing this chapter through. Partially because there are several parts in this chapter that I really like and have been waiting for and partly because of how long it's been since my last update.**

**Anyway, for here are some of the notes from within the chapter:**

**(1a) My beta-reader pointed out that moonrise would be around 8:00PM, which is late for anyone to be at school. But I really don't feel like figuring out a way for that to work. So, please, just take it as an exercise of a fantasy writer's license, accept that at least in this fic the full moon was rising earlier in the day, and let it go. Thank you. :-D**

**(1) I know NOTHING about professional wrestling, past or present. 'Chyna' was the only female wrestler I could find through Google and Wikipedia that seemed to be around—and well know—in the late 1990s. If anyone has a suggestion of a better wrestler for Gunn to mention, please feel free to speak up! **(URL: .org/wiki/Chyna)

**(2) I know a Sycamore probably isn't the right kind of tree for that scene... but it sounded neat, so I left it alone. Sorry if that threw anybody off.**

**(3) Southie = South Boston, a "densely populated neighborhood in Boston, MA" that is "referred to as Southie by its residents" and is also, according to ****Go Ask Malice****, where Faith grew up. **(.org/wiki/Go_Ask_Malice) (.org/wiki/South_Boston,_Boston,_Massachusetts)

**(4) Clarner is the surname listed on Wikepia for Pete, so I used it. Mostly because I don't see Giles saying "Pete did this" or "Pete did that." If anything, his agreeing to call Charlie by his first name so quickly was odd, but I did it anyway, figuring it kind of showed how easy it was for other characters to like—and trust—Charlie. **(URL: .org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beasts)

**(5) Everything I said about steroids came from Wikipedia, either the page I'm listing here or ones linked to it. **(URL: .org/wiki/Anabolic-androgenic_steroids)

**(6) A surname wasn't given for Debbie, which seems a little weird, but I just decided to use the actress's last name. **(URL: .org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beasts)

**(7) I gave Denise the surname Williams because that was the surname she had in Joss's original script—the one I found listed as that at least. I think it was later changed to Perkins, but I liked Williams more so I decided to keep it.**

**(8) OK. Giles and Charlie's first chat wasn't quite what I was hoping for. But it wasn't too bad, was it?**

**And that seems to be all.**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and constructive criticism/reviews in general would be immensely appreciated.**

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 6: Mortal Peril – Part I.**_


	7. Chapter 6: Mortal Peril P1 of 4

**Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: Hi guys. This chapter is mostly transitional, but there's some good parts in it too, so please enjoy.**

**Thanks again to ****to **_**NeverTooOld**_** for beta-reading. ^_^**

**Warnings: None that I can think of… I could say Spoilers for various _Buffy_ and _Angel_, and maybe earlier _NUMB3RS_ episodes, but since we've already come this far it seems a little superfluous. Still. This is fan fiction. A _Buffy: The Vampire Slayer_ (plus some _Angel_) crossover with _NUMB3RS_. There may be spoilers. There, you've been warned. Now please enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 6: Mortal Peril**_

_**Part I**_

_

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_**Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996**_

Charlie sighed as Gunn kept protesting their inability to act, a hand coming up to his brow with a wince as the early signs of a migraine made themselves known. He wasn't totally tired like he'd been the last few days after the draining experience of completing the bond with Sineya, which Constance's coven—_Aquelarre del Plata_—was fairly sure why both he and Annie were exhausted. Supposedly after the bond was whole and they'd full adjusted to it similar experiences shouldn't be quite as draining. Though he knew Annie didn't like the "quite as" part of the statement. He didn't really either, but it was the best they were going to get. But until then they were going to suffer through occasional bouts of tiredness and headaches.

"I don't get it, man," the older man protested, shaking his head with his lips set in a firm, disapproving line. "He's just a vamp. I say we dust 'im."

"If it were that simple Gunn, we would. I really wish it was!" Charlie shook his head. "But it's not."

"Yes it is! It'll be harder, I know, 'cause he's rich with guards and stuff, but—"

"It's not just that he's rich, Moon-pie," Lorne intervened, shaking his head slightly as he continued to watch Lily, Constance and Alonna with Rose, talking quietly on the other side of the room. "He's also got some pretty dangerous contacts. _Wolfram and Hart_'s—"

"Who cares about a bunch of lawyers, man! We—"

"—Not something to sneeze at." Lorne finished, shaking his head again as his red eyes finally returned to the people he was actually conversing with. "Unfortunately, they're a lot more than just lawyers."

"Lorne's right," Charlie murmured before Gunn could protest again, shaking his head when the older man looked at him. "I've barely begun researching _Wolfram & Hart_, and already I can tell that they're a lot more dangerous than a law firm should be. We have to keep in mind that they really are the people they represent."

"Which is everyone that's gonna go to one of the hells after they die," Lorne put in.

Charlie nodded again, making a face at the pluralization of "Hell," somehow the idea that there was more than one possible destination for evil souls after death bothered him, despite knowing about Hell-dimensions. And having been to one. But then again, if there really was more than one Hell and "The Balance" was real, there had to be more than one Heaven, right? He shook away the image of different Heavens for humans and dogs and cats, forcing himself back to the discussion. "They don't represent themselves that way, of course, but the media certainly doesn't like them. And the media doesn't like them mainly because of the horrendous number of murderers they've gotten off—not by proving their innocence—but by finding loop holes, technical errors in the investigations and whatnot that allow them to walk. And a horrifyingly high number of witnesses testifying against _Wolfram and Hart_ clients tend to die before they can give there testimonies."

"Yes," all three started when Constance suddenly spoke up from right next to them, obviously having crossed the room while the other three women were still talking on the other side. "Lorne was not joking when he called _Wolfram and Hart_ 'Hell Incorporated,' my friend. The covens have watched their activities—and their growing range of power—with horror for years, but we are not organized to deal with threats beyond the occasional demon or vampire nest. And as most of our members are pacifists, we haven't been able to do anything about it beyond magically protecting a woefully small number of innocents from them."

"I just started a few algorithms to analyze _Wolfram & Hart_'s known actions in the last five years," Charlie continued when the witch drew to a quiet end. "And already the list of clients I've found is horrifying." He shook his head, grimacing partially at the conversation and partially at his growing headache. "They don't represent bad people who are wealthy. They go out of their way to represent bad people in general."

"What'd you mean?" Gunn asked, frowning as he slowly gained control of his emotions when confronted with the cool logic from two sources who weren't demons. Charlie understood that the older man might be willing to trust his new friends on Lorne being a good guy, but that didn't mean he was going to trust Lorne himself any time soon. He'd been fighting demons in general for too long.

"Say the police catch a serial killer, someone who—I don't know—killed half a dozen women and can't afford to pay for his own lawyer. The State has to provide a lawyer, a public defender for him. So he'll be signed up for that—until _Wolfram & Hart_ insists on taking his case, supposedly choosing to have their lawyers represent the defendants—who can't pay hundreds of dollars every hour for representation—to keep their lawyers in shape or something like that. And they will almost always find a way to get serial killers off. A minor technicality in the investigation blown out of proportion, problems with the jury, unidentified leaks to the press, key witnesses dying from accidents that were probably secret-assassinations," Charlie shook his head, horrified by what he'd uncovered after only a few hours of analyzing the corporation.

"And they use magic, as well," Constance added with a sigh, shaking her head. "Some of the darkest sorts. It's why the covens in recent decades have had so little success in stopping the influx in dark-magic users. There simply aren't enough of us, and we aren't organized enough to get to all of them when they're being protected, trained and organized by an international corporation like _Wolfram & Hart_."

"So Winters isn't really the enemy here?" Gunn finally realized, the earlier frown that had been set on his face now much deeper.

Charlie shook his head in agreement, sighing as he glanced at their innocent again, just in time to see her take a sip of the herbal tea Lily had made for her. "Not really. He's the one we're protecting Denise from, of course, but—"

"If he were just a vamp we'd dust him. But since he's got Evil Inc. on his side—"

"He more than just a vamp, yeah," Charlie agreed, before nodding to Constance. "Do you—or others in the coven—know much about _Wolfram and Hart_? Could you get me some more info on them to work with?"

Constance nodded, "I'll see what I can dig up. But honestly, the Watchers are much more organized than the covens. They probably have plenty more on them."

The mathematician nodded again in understanding. "Yeah, I'll give Dr. Giles a call later this evening, see what he knows." Then he sighed, glancing across the room to where Alonna and Lily were still talking with Denise Williams. "In the mean time, is there some place you could hide her? Or—"

"I can ask the coven elders," Constance cut in, and then shook her head. "But honestly the wards that the covens have put up for you are much more powerful than anything else we've got in the city." At the confused looks she was getting from all around, she added, "It's the Slayer's addition to the spells, you see. By willingly adding her blood in the first set of the rituals for the wards at your homes," she nodded to Charlie then towards Lily, "and here at _The House_, the wards are significantly more powerful then anything we could put up for her."

"But you must have places that were protected before now," Lorne pointed out, frowning at the middle-aged witch, who shrugged.

"Of course we do. But they're mostly a matter of public record. _Wolfram & Hart_ knows about them."

"So the moment Denise set foot in one of them, she wouldn't be able to leave?" Charlie guessed, and sighed when the witch nodded. "OK," he glanced over at the trio across the room, then back at Constance. "You're sure she'll be safe if she stays with Lily?"

"Absolutely," Constance nodded. "After we cast a cleansing spell on her, to remove any tracer spells—" she shook her head when her audience tensed, "the _House_'s wards are currently countering them, and would have thrown them off blocks before she got here. Once we remove the tracers, we can cast an illusion on her and anti-trackers, to ensure that she'll be safe going out in public. She'll have to stay on Lily's property—or on yours, Charlie, since the wards are tied together—for at least forty-eight hours after that, to allow the wards to accept her. But after that she'll be perfectly safe from any kind of magical tracking. Though she certainly won't be able to look for work under her own name."

Charlie nodded in understanding. "Yeah, she said she'd be willing to go by an alias for a while. And we can use the curse on the O'Connor name to help her there, too." At the confused look Gunn shot him, the genius shook his head, "Long story. But she can say she's Lily's—and Annie's cousin—and go by Lyla, which she says she used before. Lyla O'Connor."

Constance nodded, "That'll work." She paused abruptly, attention seeming to turn inward for a second before she nodded again. "The elders are here. You should—"

"Take care of Denise first," Charlie cut in, his voice firm. "Her life is actually under immediate threat. We can work on meditation and whatnot afterwards."

"You need—"

"I can wait. Denise can't."

After a moment, the witch sighed and nodded. "Very well." She glanced towards the door as it opened and Lily hurried to greet her coven sisters. "I'll let them know."

Charlie nodded, "Thank you."

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 __0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**High School, Sunnydale, California – Monday, September 30, 1996**_

Buffy rolled her eyes, holding her phone precariously to her ear with one shoulder while she rooted through her book bag. "Yes, Charlie. It's next Friday."

"_On the Hellmouth that you don't want me to go near?_"

"No," Buffy shook her head, "It's not at the school. It's at the Bronze. So will you be my date? Well, actually, mine and Faith's? She wants to share you."

"_Uh, um—what?_"

Buffy laughed lightly, smiling as the genius's disbelief echoed over the phone line and they're empathetic link. "Well she won't have a date otherwise."

"_Well, yes, but—_" she was sure Charlie was shaking his head as he paused, then sighed. "_Are you sure?_"

"What? About you going with both me and Faith to the Homecoming Dance?" the blonde asked, ignoring the looks she was getting from most of her mingling classmates as they eavesdropped on her conversation.

"_Well, that too, but—Why do you want me to go to your Homecoming Dance?_"

"Did you go to yours?"

"_No. I was twelve and my brother didn't want me there._"

"Wait, he actually said that and your—"

"_No, of course he didn't say it, Annie. I just knew,_" he sighed. "_Sibling's intuition, I guess._"

"I guess," Buffy frowned at the sad turn her friend's tone was taking. "And he stole your date for the Prom, too, right?"

"_No, well, yes. But Val didn't really want to go with me. I was just her cute little science lab partner. And she probably had a crush on Don, like a third of the girls in our grade. He was on the baseball team. So—_"

"So she hung out with you to get close to your brother and hit pay dirt, got'ch'ya," Buffy nodded, still frowning even as she managed to find the piece of paper she'd been looking for and set it on her desk with the rest of her stuff for math class before zipping the bag up and dropping it under her desk's chair. "All the more reason for you to come to my Homecoming Dance and have a good time." She insisted as she sat down, glancing at the clock to see she still had seven minutes before class started.

"_I'm going to be teaching college classes three months from now, Annie._"

"So? Doesn't mean you can't hang out with us and have fun! You're still in the right age-bracket now, right? Oz is older than you."

"_Oz is still in high school._"

"Yeah, but—" Buffy sighed and shook her head. "Do you really not want to go?"

"_What? No, I-I didn't say that. But—_"

"Then I'll take the bus up to LA this Friday to help, what was her name? Denise?"

"_Denise Williams, yeah._"

"So I'll come help with dusting Denise's baddy, then your Mom'll drive us back on Sunday. And you'll stay till the following Sunday since the Dance is on Saturday, right?"

"_Um, I guess?_" After a moment Charlie sighed and continued more firmly. "_I mean, yeah. Sure… do I have to wear a tuxedo?"_

"Yeah, it's supposed to be pretty fancy. Xander's renting one," a small frown pulled at the corner of her mouth as she reconsidered the last comment. "Or borrowing one, he wasn't too clear on that.

"_OK_." She could almost feel Charlie nodding.

"Miss Summers?"

Buffy glanced up to watch Miss Glenn nod towards the clock and mouth, 'five minutes.' She nodded, sighing as she realized that she really should finish up before the bell. Especially since she needed help with some of the homework questions. "Oh, hey Charlie—"

"_Gotta go?_" he asked, his voice utterly understanding.

The blonde sighed again, but had to smile at his acceptance. "Yeah, sorry. My class is gonna start soon. So I'll see you Friday night?"

"_My Mom and I'll pick you up at Union Station around, um, 7:30, right?_"

"Yup. Bus is supposed to leave at quarter after five, so as long as there's not too much traffic seven-thirty should do it."

"_OK, do you have everything set up for Homecoming already?_"

Buffy blinked, "Huh?"

"_A ride there and that kind of stuff?_"

"Oh. Yeah, Cordelia was talkin' about renting a limo but I think we're just gonna have Oz drive—"

"_I'll take care of the limo._"

"What? No, Charlie you don't have t—"

"_I want to,_" the soon-to-be college professor cut in firmly. "_So I'm going to. You just worry about getting Giles' book here on Friday, OK? And, I guess, your dress for Homecoming, if you want to._"

After a moment Buffy sighed again, sensing that she really wouldn't be able to change her friend's mind. "OK. Thanks, Charlie."

"_I'll talk to you later?_"

"Talk to you later. Bye Charlie."

"_Bye Annie._"

Buffy was smiling as she hung up and quickly checked to make sure her phone was set on it's lowest vibrate setting before slipping it into it's customary pocket in her backpack just as the bell for the start of class rang and Miss Glenn stood up from her desk again.

"Excellent timing, Ms. Summers," the math teacher told her with a warm smile before nodding as she glanced around the classroom. "And it looks like everyone's here—If you're absent, say so." She smirked as several of her students' chuckled at her small joke. "OK. Well, how 'bout we start with the homework? Any problem areas?"

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Tuesday, October 1, 1996**_

Charlie carefully held back a grimace as his mom set a plate of pancakes in front of him. "Thanks, Mom." Much as he really didn't like them, he knew he was the only member of his family that didn't—his brother really liked them—so Charlie'd never had the heart to tell his family that he didn't like pancakes at all.

"You're welcome, dear," his mom nodded in reply, smiling softly as she set the steaming pancake pan on the unlit backburner of the stove to cool down while they ate before glancing at both her husband and younger son. "Can I get either of you anything?"

"No, Maggie," her husband immediately replied, shaking his head but smiling as he continued. "But you could sit down and enjoy your own breakfast."

Charlie smiled as his mom laughed.

"I could do that, couldn't I?" And so saying, she grabbed the small glass of juice she'd poured for herself and brought it to the table with her. For a few minutes the room was mostly silent, broken only by the soft sounds of forks occasionally clicking against plates as they dug into their breakfast. It was his dad that finally broke the silence.

"How's your case going, dear?"

The blonde shrugged lightly and swallowed the bite she'd taking while he asked the question before answering, "They're gonna settle some time this week."

"What's this one about?" Charlie asked curiously. While his parents talked about work in front of him every now and then, most of the time he knew very little about what was going on in their jobs. He'd been in the loop more this summer because Annie somehow always knew what they were working on, and she often hinted that showing an interest by asking questions was a good way to learn such things.

"A car accident. Insurance and whatnot." His mom shrugged, "Nothing big, really. Just a fender-bender, for my client, at least."

"Oh, that's good," Charlie nodded, then glancing at his dad. "Are you still working on—"

"The downtown project?" His dad nodded, "Yeah. We just started construction, actually." He took a bite of his pancakes and looked at his younger son as he chewed on them, raising an eyebrow as he swallowed. "So your mom tells me you're going to Annie's Homecoming Dance?"

Charlie blinked, shooting his smiling mother a surprised look before nodding slowly. "Uh, yeah. She's gonna visit the weekend before that to check-up on _The House_, and Lily and stuff, then," he shrugged, "I guess I'm gonna head back with her. Do you guys want me to take the bus ba—"

"Of course not," his mom cut in, shaking her head. "We'll drop you off an—"

"We can't pick him up the following Sunday, sweetie," his Dad pointed out. "Remember? We'll be in Washington for your Aunt's party."

"Oh, right," his mom frowned.

Charlie shook his head, "I can take the bus, Mom. And it's not that far from _The House_, so I can just catch a ride home with Lily. Or take a taxi."

"I suppose," his mom nodded, still obviously not happy with the idea as she sighed. "You'll have to come back early in the afternoon though. I don't want you walking around downtown at night. No, actually, you should just take a taxi h—"

"To _The House_," Charlie agreed, nodding though he knew full well that wasn't what she was going to say. "I'll let Lily know." Though he did find it interesting that the 'at night' part was what his mom really seemed to be worried about. She was rationalizing it to the location, but still…

"But—" his mom stopped, frowning as a knock at the front door echoed through the house. "Who—" she glanced at the nearby clock on the stove and shook her head as it read ten past seven. "Who would be here this early?" she started to rise but Charlie shot up and headed towards the front door.

"I'll get it, Mom." He was out of the kitchen before she could object, hoping it wasn't anyone from _The House_ or _The Watch_.

He knew that _The Watch_ especially could be dangerous, but they hadn't had anything more serious than a lot of scratches and bruises, plus some broken bones and concussions, no casualties yet. Unfortunately yet was probably the key word there.

When Charlie opened the front door he was relieved, as the older, well-dressed man that was standing there was a complete stranger to him. "Can I help you?" he asked, taking in the man's attire with a quick second glance and a frown.

At the first glance he'd seen the suit and briefcase and immediately thought 'door to door salesman' that was up and making house calls _way_ to early. But on the second one he realized the man's suit was much too expensive for that.

"I need to speak with Dr. Charles Eppes, please," the man told him, cool gray eyes taking him in and dismissing him almost immediately.

Charlie raised an eyebrow and suppressed a smirk, being dismissed based on his age/appearance used to bother him, but now more often than not it amused him. Still he didn't move to invite the stranger inside in anyway as he replied. "I'm Dr. Eppes. What can I do for you?"

The older man blinked, but to his credit hid any surprise he felt very well after that first sign and nodded. "Dr. Eppes, Michael Cosvell," he introduced himself, holding out a card in one hand, "I'm with _Wolfram and Hart_, Attorneys at Law. We must insist—"

"Can I help you?"

Charlie blinked in surprise as his mom suddenly appeared beside him, completely unaccustomed to the cool, professional voice she was using as she raised an eyebrow at the younger lawyer.

"Mrs. Eppes, I presume?" the blonde man nodded, changing his direction to hold the card that Charlie deliberately hadn't accepted out to her instead. "I'm—"

"Cosvell, I heard," she nodded coolly, accepting the card but barely sparing it a glance before her eyes went back to him, cool and calculating. "I'm Margaret Eppes, and I represent my son in legal matters. Can I help you?"

The younger lawyer blinked, obviously not having done that much research on Charlie—as he hadn't known Charlie's age, or that his mother was a practicing lawyer and probably also didn't know that his brother was an FBI Agent—but nodded nonetheless. "Yes, Mr. Holland Manners, Vice-President of _Wolfram and Hart _Special Projects Division, would like to speak with Dr. Eppes at his earliest possible convenience."

"About?"

Cosvell blinked again, brows furrowing slightly as he replied shortly, "A closed matter."

Charlie really wouldn't have thought it possible, but his mother's tone of voice actually got colder. "Oh, well if it's closed then there's really nothing to discuss, is there?" she pointed out, deliberately seizing onto another definition of the term rather than the one the other lawyer was using. "And Dr. Eppes is a very busy person. He starts teaching soon and is under a number of consultation contracts with computer companies, banks and government organizations, so—"

"Mr. Manners understands, ma'am, sir," Cosvell nodded to both of them in turn as he interrupted, his voice firm. "But—"

Not firm enough to keep Charlie's mom from interrupting him again though.

"So he won't be available for quite some time. But if you'd care to set up an appointment with my office, we could possibly arrange a meeting." She glanced at Charlie and jerked her head towards the kitchen, "Charlie, your father needs your help in there."

"But—"

"I'll take care of this," she told him, and after nineteen years as her son Charlie knew not to disobey that tone of voice and meekly nodded, stepping back into the house and moving away even as the _Wolfram and Hart_ lawyer objected.

"Now wait just—"

"As I said, Mr. Cosvell, if you'd like to arrange a meeting with Dr. Eppes you can call my office and set up an appointment." She paused for a moment and Charlie thought it sounded like she was searching her suit pockets for something, but he thought it might just be for show since his empathetic sense was telling him she wasn't really looking for anything, though she was getting angrier by the second. Which was why he hurried his steps into the kitchen as she finished. "I don't seem to have any of my cards on me, but if you call the switchboard at the Los Angeles Supreme Court, the operator can redirect your call. Is that all?"

That undoubtedly wasn't all, as his mother's altercation with the other lawyer continued for several minutes after the kitchen door swung shut behind him, but it was all Charlie could hear. Though both he and his father's eyes kept moving towards the door at the sound of muffled voices through it. His mother never invited the other lawyer in though, and she stormed back into the kitchen after they heard the sound of the front door not quite slamming shut several minutes later.

"I, uh, need to get to work, dear," his Dad mumbled, glancing at the nearby clock before adding cautiously, "Do you want me to stay?"

Charlie's mom sighed and shook her head. "No. Have a good day at work, Alan. Don't work too hard." She gave him a quick peck on the lips as he rose and rapidly retreated from the room before her attention returned to her youngest son, who flinched under her glare and quickly turned his attention back to his half-eaten plate of lukewarm pancakes. "Charlie?"

The young genius wetted his lips nervously, still not looking up as he pushed clumps of pancake around his plate with his fork, trailing syrup and melted butter wherever it went. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Why does someone from _Wolfram and Hart_, of all law firms, want to speak with you?" Before he could reply she added in a tone that was not quite snapping but close, "And don't play with your food."

Charlie quickly released his fork, wincing as it dropped down onto his plate with a clatter that sent bits of pancake and syrup splattering around the plate. To her question, he shrugged, still not looking at her as he replied, "I, uh, I'm not sure."

"But you can guess?"

The genius shrugged again, "Maybe it's something to do with _The House_?"

After a moment his mother sighed again, her anger seeming to drain away—or at least be pulled in—leaving a surge of worry and weariness in its wake. "I certainly hope not. Though that's better than their just showing an interest in you personally." She took Charlie's plate and her own, carrying it over to the sink to rinse them off and turning the garbage disposal on for a moment while she put the plates and utensils in the dishwasher. She turned the loud appliance off, then turned the water off too, closed the dishwasher and walked back over to the table, dropping into the chair next to him with a sigh. "Is that all?"

Charlie shrugged again, not at all comfortable with lying to his mother but not really able to tell her the truth so long as she didn't believe in the supernatural. And like Annie he really didn't want to drag his family into that world. Even though it was the real, natural world, not knowing about it at least allowed the illusion of security that he was reluctant to steal from his parents. He imagined he wouldn't really want to tell his brother if he got the chance either, if only because Don had more then enough of the bad elements of the human world to deal with and if the FBI wasn't going to make him handle vampires and demons too, Charlie certainly wasn't. "What else could it be?"

"Well, I suppose they might want you to consult for them on," she shrugged, "I don't know, something." Then she shot him a sharp look that he'd only seen a few times growing up. "Which you will _not_ do, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," Charlie agreed immediately, before giving his mom a curious look. "You really don't like them, do you?" Asking partially out of pure curiosity and feeling a little bad for trying to get clues he could add to his analysis of the evil company from his own mother.

For a moment his mother's eyed closed in thought as she shook her head, then she sighed and her eyes opened again to meet his. "They have a very bad reputation, Charlie. The D.A. hasn't been able to pin on anything on them, but I know they've tried countless times."

"Why?" Charlie prodded quietly, already knowing the answer for the most part but figuring that since his mother was a lawyer she'd be a good source of information that he shouldn't ignore.

"They just—" She shook her head again, "In law school, you learn about creating a 'moral vacuum' and whatnot, because you have to defend your client—all of your clients—to the best of your ability. Even the guilty ones. But _Wolfram and Hart_—" she sighed. "They don't create moral vacuums, they _are_ a moral vacuum. They're dangerous and well known for their complete lack of scruples."

"Then why are they still around?" Charlie asked, though again he probably had a better idea than his mother did. Demonic ties and mystical forces had to come with some advantages for those that used them, after all. And according to Constance _Wolfram and Hart_ used plenty of 'em.

"No one knows. I know the current D.A. and the last one have both spent years trying to nail something to them. With the police, the FBI and probably every other alphabet agency they could call on. But no one could get far enough."

"If they couldn't find anything then how do you know—"

His mother cut him off, "When the prosecution's key witness is killed before they can testify—destroying the prosecution's case against a drug-lord or serial killer—most people assume the defendant ordered the hit." She shook her head again. "But when it happens more often then not for the clientele of one specific law firm? Defendants getting off when key witnesses are killed. And more and more of those witnesses are immediately put in protective custody when they're testifying against _Wolfram and Hart_ clients, but they're still killed. People start to wonder." The lawyer shook her head. "And they don't just defend wealthy criminals, they defend just about anybody that you wouldn't want anywhere near a school. Arsonists. Stalkers. Murderers. Rapists. It seems like the worse the crime, the more likely _Wolfram and Hart_ is to defend them. And if they can't get them off on a miniscule technicality, which they do a disgusting amount of the time, then they destroy the case. Either there's a leak to the press or a key witness—or several important witnesses—die."

"And the D.A. can't—" Charlie motioned with his hands, not sure of the words he wanted to use, then he finally shrugged. "Do anything?"

"Innocent till proven guilty, Charlie. They can't do anything without proof. And they can't find any." Her blonde curls swayed back and forth in sad waves as she shook her head again. "It's one of the most integral parts of our democratic society, supremely important in protecting our rights but it protects the real bad guys too." She smirked slightly, "That's probably one of the reasons _Wolfram and Hart _doesn't have a branch in Paris." At the surprised look her son shot her, she added, "Modern French law is very similar to ours, but it still has some exclusions that might be problematic for _Wolfram and Hart_ if they were too conspicuous in the French capital. Especially since some traces of the French mindset during Napoleonic period are still noticeable today. I think they have a branch in Marseille, though."

Charlie nodded, well-aware of how his mother felt about such things. After a moment he glanced at the clock, "Do you have—"

"To go. Yeah," she nodded as she rose, forcing a small smile onto her face as she stepped over to him and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his brow. "I'll see you this afternoon, sweetie?"

"I'm gonna head into _The House_ for a while, but I'll be home for dinner," Charlie agreed. "Do you want me to pick anything up?"

"No. I think we'll have pizza tonight. I'll call your father to have him pick some up from that little place he likes on the way home. It's actually on his route home," she pointed out with a small smirk again, "And he's driving himself."

"OK." Charlie narrowed his eyes in mock-anger, "And it is _not_ my fault I can't drive myself. I wanted to get my license a year ago, remember? You, Dad and Don talked me out of it."

His mother shook her head, "The way you can zone out when some idea or another occurs to you, Charlie, makes the idea of you behind the wheel of a car rather frightening." Then she sighed, though she was smiling softly, "But if you really want to start taking lessons, I suppose you can." She jerked her head towards the side of the house. "We still have your brother's old Volkswagen, after all."

"Mom, that thing's like, what, more than ten years old now?"

"And your brother hasn't needed it in years. Not since he got himself that Chevy." She was still smirking, "And your father and I need our cars."

Charlie rolled his eyes, but nodded, "OK. Hope your day gets better, Mom."

His mother laughed as she grabbed her purse off the counter and quickly rummaged through it to make sure everything she needed was in there. She did that every morning. "So do I. After a run-in with _Wolfram and Hart_ though, I suppose that 'get better' is all it can do. Love you, sweetie."

"Love you, too, Mom," Charlie shot her a small smile as he watched her leave. He heard her pick up her briefcase, which she almost always left near the door, and a few seconds later heard the front door open and shut again. Then he rose and quickly grabbed his cell phone off of the counter, where it'd been charging, and unplugged it before opening it to dial a familiar number.

After three rings a similarly familiar voice picked up, "_Hello?_"

"Constance, hi, it's Charlie. Sorry but I think I need another favor…"

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_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Tuesday, October 1, 1996**_

Buffy nodded even as she lightly stepped over the sweeping kick Faith sent at her legs, "Yeah. Shouldn't be too hard," she glanced over at their Watcher while catching her sister-Slayer's punch and using it to throw her slightly off balance, then returned her attention to her sparring partner even as she hinted to the Watcher. "Though it'd probably be easier if the Council had some kind of help for us. I mean, this vamp's supposed to be, like, super-rich so he's gonna have some tight security, right?"

"Yes," Giles confirmed, sighing slightly. "And as I said just a few moments ago, Buffy. I _have_ already called the Council to request support for the endeavor." He actually shrugged—an inelegant motion Buffy wasn't used to seeing her Watcher use—as he turned the page of the old tome he was reading, not even remotely watching his two Slayers spar. "I doubt they will have any qualms about sending a team of operatives again. The Council has been watching Russell Winters for several decades now, since he was first sired in the nineteen-sixties."

"Why haven't they taken 'im out then?" Faith asked, before vaulting over Buffy's head to try and land a kick at her back, which was gracefully blocked and used to throw her off balance before she flipped free of the older Slayer's grip.

The Watcher sighed again, "He really hasn't been active enough to make the effort, apparently. He's not on a Hellmouth gathering followers. He doesn't even associate with many other demons or vampires since his Sire was staked by an amateur hunter in the seventies. And he actually doesn't kill that many—"

"According to Charlie he's been torturing girls for years!" Buffy protested with a frown towards her Watcher, looking away from Faith at just the wrong moment and getting her feet kicked out from under her in the process. "_Oof!_" Still, she easily caught herself and kicked Faith away on her way down before flipping back onto her feet.

"Yes. But he doesn't even kill as often as most fledgling vampires, Buffy. He generally buys blood from many of the numerous demonic-markets that sell it, only killing a few girls a year. Compared to vampires like An—well, um, Spike or Drusilla, who generally kill an average of a dozen people per week themselves, and are partially responsible for many more in the cities as they gather followers to them, Winter's is rather insignificant." He sighed when both Slayer's turned to glare at him. "Not to say that his victim are unimportant, of course, but in the grand scheme—" he spread his hands in a helpless gesture before dropping them back to the book he was flipping through.

"So what?" Faith shook her head, nodding in thanks as she caught the water bottle Buffy tossed at her while tossing the blonde's towel towards her. "Since he acts more like a human serial killer than a demonic one, the Council won't bother goin' after him?" She shook her head even as she tipped it back to take several long gulps from her water bottle, before continuing as she finished, setting the bottle down and wrapping her towel around her sweating shoulders. "That sucks, yo."

"Indeed it does," Giles agreed immediately, before either Slayer could really start ranting at him. "But even with the vast number of resources and influences the Council has around the globe, we are still limited." He paused as the phone rang, and rose from his seat, nodding to them, "Excuse me," before crossing the library and going into his office to answer it.

"So, I heard the Scoobs' were talking about renting a set a wheels together?" Faith asked, raising an eyebrow as she dropped down into a nearby seat and took another gulp of her water.

Buffy shrugged while taking a sip of her water, "That's what they were saying," then she shook her head. "But Charlie already arranged for a limo for us. I tried to talk them into sharing, but Xander—for some reason—wouldn't hear it."

"Oh?" Faith finished off her water bottle and gestured for Buffy to toss her a second one, continuing as she caught it while the blonde took a seat across from her. "Think X-man's jealous again?"

Buffy frowned, shaking her head. "I don't _think_ so. I mean, he's dating Cordelia now so," she shrugged, "Maybe it's just a not-trusting-the-new-guy thing?"

"Maybe," the younger Slayer agreed with another shrug. "But hey, it means we've got a nice set a wheels all to ourselves, right?"

Buffy laughed, "I guess so."

Then both Slayers looked towards the door as their Watcher returned with a small smile on his face.

"Good news, Watcher-mine?" the older Slayer asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Indeed," Giles nodded immediately, gesturing towards his office as he continued. "The Council has decided to send a team of operatives to help—"

"What?" Buffy shook her head deeply, frowning. "No. I don't need _that_ kind of help, Giles. 'Specially considering how much 'help' the last 'team' was. I just want the," she gestured vaguely in front of her as she tried to think of the right words. "You know, plans. Of his house—"

"Like the blueprints?" Faith suggested, smirking slightly as Buffy nodded.

"Yeah, and maybe his schedule and security and stuff? Charlie said Winters was rolling in it, so he's gotta have security, right?"

"Well, yes, of course he does." Giles confirmed with a nod, though he was frowning at the elder Slayer. "Which is exactly the sort of thing the field operatives would be ideal for helping with, Buffy."

"Like they were such big 'help' last time?" Buffy shook her head, "I mean, sure they kept most of the minions off our backs so Faith and I could get rid of Kakistos, but I know at least a few of the minions got away."

Giles sighed, shaking his head as he took a seat near them, carefully sliding a bookmark into the book he was reading to mark the page as he closed it. "Well, yes, but that was more their leader's fault then there own, was it not? I believe you yourself said that though he played little part in the fight itself, he expected the field operatives to follow him?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"That's because he was a Council Member, Buffy. Though not a very high ranking one. And though he doesn't even have enough training to act as a Field Watcher, such as myself, the fact that he holds a seat on the Council meant that the operatives would certainly defer to him."

"Not really though," Faith shrugged when both looked at her. "I mean, they listened to everything he said, but they listened to _you_, too, B. Which is probably why they were as successful as they were."

Buffy nodded in agreement as she remembered the focused gazes of the Watchers that hadn't said anything, besides greeting all three of them—'Miss Summers,' 'Miss Lehane' and 'Dr. Giles'—very politely. "Yeah, I guess."

"Though I gotta say, G-man," the brunette shook her head while the Watcher frowned at her. "That Council of yours is lookin' less and less useful by the day, if the bossy, spineless idiot's anything to by."

"Well, I—uh—I think you're both being a bit harsh on—"

"Well we don't have much to judge them on, do we?" Buffy snapped, then winced as her Watcher's expression went completely blank while her empathetic senses detected a clear note of hurt at her words. She shook her head. "Sorry, not—I just meant, you're the only Watcher that we see all the time. And you're great. I knew Merrick before you and Faith knew Dormer, and they were great too. But if this Council is as powerful and far-reaching as everyone says," she spread her arms and shook her head, "_Where_ are they?"

The Watcher stared at her for several long moments, before finally shaking his head. "I understand your qualms, Buffy. Truly, I do," he sighed heavily. "But this is tradition. It's how the Council has operated for centuries. Researching threats and helping prepare the Slayer to face them. If you feel having several more watchers here for support would truly be beneficial, I will gladly ask the Council to consider it. " He waved his hand at the fairly small library around them, "But we'd probably have to find a bigger space to meet in. Though considering the Hellmouth's location," he nodded as both Slayers glanced at the floor. "The Council would undoubtedly wish to keep me here."

"No," Buffy sighed, "We don't really need more people doing your job, Giles. You handle your job. It's just," she shook her head and opened her mouth to continue, but stopped as Faith went on for her.

"Kinda annoying that they just ignored the bastard and let him kill all those girls," the brunette shrugged, shaking her head after swallowing another few gulps of water. "Makes ya think the Council didn't think they were worth worryin' about."

Buffy nodded in agreement even as she watched her Watcher shake his head in protest.

"Now really, ladies, we can't be everywhere at once. Not too long ago, you might care to remember that there was only one Slayer at a time, which meant they couldn't be in two places at once an—"

"But the Council could've trained people to handle the weaker vamps. Hell, they _do_ train people for that. That's what their 'operatives' are for, right?" She frowned at him, and was only just able to keep her frown from deepening as she sensed a sudden spike of conflicting emotions from the man.

_Anger_. But not—from the way he was acting—anger at her and Faith.

_Fear._ Again, not quite at the Slayers. Then what was her Watcher afraid of?

_Worry_. That she could see in his eyes as he met her gaze again.

"The Council Operative h-have many responsibilities, my dear," he sighed and shook his head again as he continued. "Among them are hunting vampires and demons. But again, there are very few human beings up to the necessities of the job."

"Yeah, that's the whole bit 'bout bein' chosen, huh?" Faith raised an eyebrow at the elder Slayer and smirked, "Not much special about it if everyone can do it, right?"

"No," Buffy agreed softly, shaking her head even as her eyes remained locked on her weary Watcher.

"That is very true, Faith," Giles allowed, then shook his head. "Nonetheless, I can assure you—both of you—that the team currently in route is quite up to the task."

"'Leader's not a Council member?" Buffy asked.

Giles shook his head again, "No. The lead-operative is Alastair Collins, and though he has been in the Council's employ for, uh, this type of work for many years, he has never shown an interest in sitting on the Council proper."

"Well," Faith shrugged as she tossed her empty water bottle across the room—easily sinking it into the far trashcan—and glanced at the blonde Slayer again. "That's one point in his favor, right, B?"

"Could be," Buffy agreed with a sigh.

"Collins and the gentlemen that will be with him have all been training together and fighting the forces of darkness for most of their lives."

Both Slayer's winced as the school's end-of-class bell resounded through the library, offending their super-sensitive sense of hearing, which was still running on high from the adrenaline they'd built up while sparring together.

Buffy sighed as she hurriedly moved into the librarian's office to change back into her school-clothes. A few moments—plus a few moist toilettes, some deodorant and perfume—later, she stepped out again and shrugged at the concerned look her Watcher shot her while she packed up her training equipment. "I guess I can work with them."

"Tha—"

"But the sooner we can send Charlie the blueprints, the better."

"I'll ask after them right away," Giles assured her, and shook his head as she undid the tight-twist she'd had her hair in for sparring, rapidly ripping through it with her hairbrush before pulling the slightly neater mass back into a ponytail.

"Thanks," the high school senior said out of the corner of her mouth, even as she efficiently placed her hairbrush back in its pocket of her bag before pulling out her make-up kit and just as quickly using it to make sure none of her mascara or eye-shadow had run, before taking out some lip-gloss and applying it.

"So, B, all ready for that dance next week?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, smiling softly while she slipped her make-up kit back into her back-pack. "I'll head up to LA to deal with Winters on Friday. Charlie will come back with me, hang out a bit, and the dance is on Friday."

"Cool," the brunette nodded, taking a swig of her second water bottle. "Lookin' forward to meetin' him."

Buffy laughed as she headed for the door, "Oh, he is too. See ya later, Faith. Bye Giles!" Then she was hurrying out the door towards her history class with about two minutes to spare.

Cutting through the rapidly emptying school courtyard, she stopped abruptly as a familiar and unwelcome sensation made itself known.

Someone was watching her.

Someone that her senses agreed was at least somewhat dangerous.

Buffy closed her eyes for a moment and reached out with her Slay-dar. But a moment later she opened her eyes again, her frown deepening as she came back empty.

Someone who was _not_ demonic or mystical was watching her?

Looking around, she called up her empathetic senses instead, rapidly dismissing the trivial worries of her nearby peers, the familiar concerns of the nearby school staff and the principal's far too familiar thorn-like presence of general discontent and malice.

Her eyes turned toward the parking lot as she sensed a strange level of almost-apathy that abruptly shifted to worry as her gaze landed on a nearby van. She took a step towards the parking lot, not sure if she should attack—not demons or vampires, after all, and 'watching' wasn't really a crime…was it?—but the van's occupants saved her the trouble of deciding by turning on and driving away, quickly accelerating as they left the parking lot.

"Hey Summers, ya comin'?"

Buffy jumped and glanced towards the end of the courtyard, where she'd been headed a moment before, to see two of her classmates waiting for her with expectant looks on their faces.

"Come on, we're gonna be late."

The Slayer glanced towards the parking lot again, but knowing she really needed better grades this year pushed the thought of strangely non-Slayer related stalkers aside to hurry off with her peers to her history class. With each semi-hurried step—quick for her classmates but zilch to her—she tried to push the strangeness of the situation to the back of her mind.

After all, if they weren't demons, weren't vampires or supernatural in any way, how bad could they really be?

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Wednesday, October 2, 1996**_

Charlie sighed, shaking his head. "And you're sure every thing's OK?" After all of the meditative exercises he'd been practicing under the supervision of different members of the LA covens and plenty of time just focusing on reading the bond itself, he was now completely sure he could feel distinct signals of irritation _and_ amusement from his friend.

"_Yes, Charlie. I told you, last night's patrol was easy. The only thing off about yesterday was that van and—_"

"Even if you're right—" as he sensed a sudden increase in the irritation he quickly continued on a slightly different note, "—which, I'm sure, you are. Though you did say they were far away. But even if whoever was watching you yesterday isn't demonic or vampiric that doesn't mean they're not dangerous, Annie." Charlie sighed and shook his head. "The world is full of dangerous _humans_. My brother hunts some of them every day. Give any of 'em a weapon and they become a very real threat. Even to you and Faith, a human enemy with a gun could hurt—or even kill—you."

Annie sighed, and Charlie had the distinct impression that she was focusing on something other than their conversation as she spoke, "_Guns aren't allowed in supernatural fights, Charlie._"

The mathematician sighed, as always finding the lack of logic associated with the supernatural superbly irksome. "And how often do the bad guys listen to the rules? You said that vampire, Darla tried to shoot you a few years ago." He continued quickly before she could reply, "Besides, this could be something else."

"_Like what?_"

"You said whoever it was definitely wasn't supernatural, right? So that means they can't be vampires, demons, or mages?"

"_Yeah. I think._"

"I need a little more then 'I think,' here, Annie," the scientist objected half-heartedly, only frowning when he sensed a strange sensation across his empathetic senses—coming from their bond, he thought—that made him think of the color _red_.

"_I've only fought __**one**__ witch before and she barely showed up on my Slay-dar when she wasn't using magic!_" The Slayer sighed, "_I mean, I've gotten stronger but they could be magic-users, right?_"

"Alright, maybe. But for the sake of this argument we'll say they're not." Charlie insisted, his frown deepening as he empathetic senses were assaulted by a puzzling sensation again, except this one made him think of the color _blue_.

"_Why?_"

"Just listen for a moment, please?"

_Red_ again.

"_OK._"

Now _blue_. "OK, so what about people that might want t-to test your abilities as—"

_Blue _and _red_ were suddenly replaced by a mixture of anger and fear. "_You think they want to turn me into a lab-rat?_"

"No! No, no. Well, maybe. It _is_ possible," he felt he had to point out, despite _really_ not liking the idea himself. Sure it might be interesting to figure out just what Annie was capable of, exactly how much her powers were growing and such, but the cost was much too high. After a moment of strained silence he asked, "Did they _feel_ dangerous to you?"

"_I…_" the Slayer was quiet for several moments longer before she sighed, "_I don't know. They were just watching me. Which was creepy, yah, but—_"

"But it didn't feel like they were aiming weapons at you?"

This time Annie's answer was immediate and definitive, "_No._"

Charlie sighed and nodded to himself, pushing wild ideas of stalkers and spies to the back of his mind and tried to change the subject to a calmer topic. "What are you doing?"

"_Huh? I'm talking to you,_" Annie replied just as quickly, clear confusion ringing over the phone-lines and their bond.

Charlie smiled softly, trying to focus on his home—the upstairs, at least, still felt safe all the time—hoping the comfort and safety he felt would calm his friend. "But you're concentrating on something else. Blue? Red? What is that?"

"_Bl—Oh!_"

Again he felt her realize what he was talking about even as he heard it in her voice.

"_OK, that's kinda creepy._"

"What is?"

"_Well, I mean, I don't think I feel all that strongly about any of this, do I?_"

"About any of _what_, Annie?"

"_Oh, I'm trying to pick out a dress for Homecoming next week. Hey, actually, what are you wearing?_"

Charlie blinked, "Uh, wearing?"

"_Yeah, I think Xander and Oz are both renting tuxes. Actually, Xander's cousin sent gave him or lent him a tux, I'm still not sure which._"

"Oh, I can wear a tuxedo, I, uh, guess." Charlie frowned, wondering if the tuxedo he'd worn to his mother's second-cousin's wedding a few years ago would still fit him. And, for that matter, where it was.

"_What coloring?_"

"Huh?"

Annie laughed, and he was fairly sure she was rolling her eyes. Apparently he'd succeeded in distracting her at his own expense. "_Your tux, Charlie, what's it look like? Black and white?_"

"Um, yeah." He thought so, at least. He actually didn't remember most of the wedding. The only time he'd paid any attention at all was during dinner when he couldn't get away with thinking about the Eppes Convergence and his brother was actually interested in talking to him. Mostly to commiserate on being dragged to the wedding of a relative both of them had only met at one or two funerals before then, but it'd been nice nonetheless.

"_Bow-tie?_"

"Uh," he thought back on it and was surprised when a conversation with his brother about their ties popped into his head. "No, actually. Just a regular tie." Remembering the direction of her earlier question, he quickly added, "It's blue."

"_Sapphire blue? Sky blue? Cerulean? Azure? Air Force blue?_"

"Um, a light, blue-gray blue?"

Annie sighed, "_OK. I can work with that, I guess. You had it fitted and dry-cleaned, right?_"

"Um, yeah," Charlie nodded quickly, pushing down a rising sense of worry from the questions.

"_Are you lying?_" the Slayer asked, and continued before he could reply. "_Never mind. Just make sure you get to a tailor tomorrow. Hopefully they'll be able to fix it up for you on the spot—though that'll cost more—and then you can drop it off at the dry cleaners for pick-up on Friday. Which, again, 'll cost more, but it's your own fault._"

Charlie winced, but chose to accept her words with a small nod. "Yeah, sorry." Searching for another tangent to explore he asked, "Did Giles get the blueprints yet?"

"_Uh, yeah. Willow was gonna send 'em to you tonight. Is that alright?_"

"Yeah, that's fine. Thanks."

"_The covens couldn't get anything?_"

"No. Well, they have a mystical outline of the wards and some of the spells on the grounds. Constance said something about evil gargoyles, but they couldn't find any actual blueprints. As I understand it, Techno-Pagans, like the late Miss Calendar are still a fairly small talent pool."

"_Yeah, she was pretty special._"

Charlie nodded, sighing softly at the remorse and sadness he could now feel echoing over their bond. "It wasn't your fault."

"_It kinda was,_" Annie sighed. "_I let Angelus loose. Then I couldn't stake him. Both of which mean that the people he killed here in Sunnydale are partially my fault. Maybe I didn't kill them, but I let him kill them._"

"No. You _didn't_." Charlie shook his head firmly. "You didn't know about the stupid clause in the curse and Angelus's actions are his own. It's not like you just stepped aside and watched him kill."

"_Maybe I should have,_" the Slayer sighed again. "_Maybe then I would've been able to stake him._"

"You _loved_ him, Annie." Charlie shook his head slightly, forcibly ignoring the slight stirrings of jealousy in his gut at the thought. "A part of you still does love him, right?"

"_I—Yeah. I-I guess,_" Annie agreed, sighing softly again before she continued, her voice suddenly firming as she switched the topic again. "_OK. So you and your Mom are gonna pick me up at the bus station Friday night, right?_"

The genius blinked, but quickly went with her, knowing she didn't want to talk anymore about the emotionally charged topic, and knowing that for now, at least, that was alright. "Yeah, we'll pick you up at Union Station's bus terminal."

"_I can find my way out to the main entrance, if that'd be easier. That way your Mom wouldn't have to park or pay for it._"

"No, we'll meet you in the terminal."

"_Charlie—_"

"Annie, I _know_ my Mom. Even if you managed to convince me, she'd ignored me when I told her. We'll meet you in the terminal."

After a moment the Slayer sighed again. "_OK. I'll see you guys there._"

"I'm looking forward to it," Charlie smiled, shaking his head slightly. "All of us are. Mom and Dad. Lily and everyone at the _House_. We've missed you. And Gunn can't wait to meet you."

Annie laughed, "_Yeah, I'm glad to have an excuse to visit, too._" Then she continued a little more seriously, "_You'll call me if there are any problems._" It wasn't a question.

"Of course. See you in a few days, Annie."

"_Bye for now, Charlie_."

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 __0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Thursday, October 3, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as her mother and Faith both laughed, "I mean, I know most guys don't put as much thought into dressing that we girls do, but for a formal dance?"

"Your boy has two counts against him though, B," Faith said with a grin, shrugging as both Summers look at her. "He's a guy _and_ a geek."

"That is true," Buffy's mom agreed with a matching grin. "Though I'd think, having completed college and received his doctorate he'd be more used to the idea of formal-dress on appropriate occasions."

"Most of the college guys I've met aren't really into suits and ties, Mrs. S'," Faith told them, still grinning as she finished off the last of her cereal. Buffy wasn't sure if it'd been Raisin Bran or Total, but it was gone now.

"Not for class and day-to-day life, no," Joyce shook her head. "But most college graduates would know not to wear jeans and t-shirt to, say, a job interview." Then she shrugged, "Of course, it may just be that as you said, he didn't go to his high school dances because of the age difference and never made the mental connection to formality."

Buffy shrugged, "I think it's more like he just didn't think of it." She nodded in thanks when Faith grabbed her plate, which had been formerly laden with toast, the remains of it were in her hand and quickly disappearing.

"Shouldn't you girls eat more?" Joyce shook her head again as both Slayers looked at her. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Mr. Giles said being—you know—made your metabolisms' increase significantly."

"Mom," Buffy was grinning even more widely as she shook her head, and held the small bit of her last piece of toast up. "This is my fifth piece of toast and that's my second glass of juice. And I'm pretty sure that Faith had at least two bowls of cereal."

"Three," Faith confirmed with a nod as she finished putting their dishes in the dishwasher and closed the door. "'Sides, it's not breakfast-time we usually need to eat loads at."

"It's not?"

"No," Buffy agreed. "We usually eat a big dinner and then pig-out when we get back from patrol. That's when our bodies' need to make-up for all the energy we used." She shook her head and chuckled slightly. "Charlie actually tried to track my eating-habits this summer, and how much I need to eat."

"Oh?" her Mom asked curiously.

Faith added, "What happened?"

The older Slayer shrugged, "Well, first he had to get me to be honest about when I was hungry and all that. But he said that my body seems to store-up a lot of the excess energy," she shrugged when both frowned at her, "Obviously not as fat, so he figured it was some kind of mystical storage thing that only Slayers have. But that was also why we feel lousy when we don't patrol for too long."

"Our Slayer-storage-thing gets too fat?" Faith asked with a grin and Buffy shrugged again.

"I guess." She sighed as she glanced at the clock. "I've gotta get to school."

"Hey, you didn't say anything about my idea," Faith protested mildly.

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. "It's OK with me. Probably be a good idea, actually. 'Cept you have to figure out where all our junk is going _and_ Mom has to say 'yes,'" she nodded to her mother with a grin as the older woman shook her head.

"I don't know, Faith," Joyce sighed. "It'd probably be awful expensive."

"So we get the Council to pay for it." When both Summers women looked at her again, Faith shrugged. "What? You were the one that told G-man that we should get paid for patrolling regularly. Doesn't that mean they should pay for our training, too?"

Buffy blinked, then nodded slowly while she finished checking her backpack and zipped all the pockets up after slipping her no-longer-secret-phone into its customary home. "Yeah, I guess. I'll ask Giles about it," she glanced at her mom, "If that's alright?"

Her mom shook her head, "You two will still have to fit everything we have downstairs up into the attic, though. Which will probably mean a few new bookcases up there. And we'll need to check to make sure the floor can support that much weight."

Both teenagers frowned at her.

"Why wouldn't it?" Buffy asked.

"This is a fairly old house, Buffy. I'm not sure the attic was—"

"It's there, so doesn't it mean it was designed for storing stuff?" Faith frowned.

"Well, probably yes, but I'd rather not have to fix the floor after something happens."

"Um, OK." Buffy thought a moment. "Actually, Charlie's Dad's an architect, and they're gonna be dropping us off on Sunday. We could ask him to take a look." She frowned as her eye caught sight of the nearby clock again, "I gotta go. See you later, Faith. Have a nice day, Mom!"

Her mother's "You too, honey" and Faith's "Yeah, B," followed her out the door just before it clicked shut behind her.

Buffy was grinning as she took off at what was—to her, at least—a slight jog. Faith had been after them to remodel the basement into a training area for weeks now. Buffy kind of saw the appeal of the end result, but she was really having too much fun watching Faith try to talk her mom into it to help out all that much. But it looked like the brunette had finally won. Unless the elder Summer's had second-thoughts again.

With a sigh, she wondered how Charlie was doing with packing. Granted, he didn't really have to pack before they left LA on Sunday, but it'd be easier if he'd had it done ahead of time. As long as he got the tux into a tailor like he promised and then to the drycleaners, though, they should be fine. Granted, like Faith had said, they could still drag him to the dance in jeans and t-shirt and probably have a great time, but she didn't think it'd be the same sort of experience. Plus, it would make Charlie stand out a lot more then he'd probably be comfortable with.

She started when the sound of a nearby car horn broke her out of her reverie and halted abruptly to look at the nearby street. Two the girls in her math class, which was meeting first period again, were watching her.

"Hey, Summers," the driver called, "Need a ride?"

Buffy blinked, but then nodded, smiling slightly. "Sure, that'd be great. Thanks, Donna. Hi Chloe…"

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 __0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Thursday, October 3, 1996**_

Charlie rolled his eyes as his older friends snickered at his expense. "It's not that funny."

Lily shrugged while Constance kept laughing.

"To girls, it is, Charlie." Lily shook her head. "Still, it was really sweet of your mom to save you like that. Like Annie said, you probably coulda gotten it ready in time, even this late. But you'd have to pay through the teeth for the speed."

"Yeah," Charlie nodded in agreement. "I've already thanked my mom for that. Twice." Then he frowned, "Though I really don't know how she managed to get it perfectly tailored without me there."

The manager of _Angels' House_ shrugged again. "Some moms can be freaky like that. And your mom's great, so it doesn't surprise me."

"Yes," Constance raised an eyebrow at Charlie. "A lot of people around here would like to meet your parents, actually. Any idea when that might happen?"

Charlie winced and shook his head. "I don't know. They want to see the _House_, and help out around here if they can, but they're both so busy all the time. My mom's got—I think—five different cases open this week, and my dad just started another big project for the city. And they have to go to that thing in Washington next weekend."

"'That thing in Washington,'" Lily smirked as she quoted him curiously, then raised an eyebrow as the mathematician shrugged.

"Some conference, I think. One for Mom's work. She's just taking Dad with her to turn it into a mini-vacation afterwards. I think."

"I thought Annie talked to you about showing an interest in your parents lives?"

"I do!" the genius protested with a frown.

Constance was smiling at both of them, "Then perha—" she stopped abruptly with a frown, glancing towards the front of the building, almost like she could see through the floor to the entryway. "We have company."

Charlie frowned and started reaching towards the front of the _House_ with his empathetic senses even as Lily picked up the phone on her desk.

"I'm calling Gunn's patrol back," Lily explained, sighing as she added, "Good thing Charlie insisted on all the _Watch_ leaders taking phones on patrol, huh?"

It'd taken some work to get all of the _Watch_ leaders to accept the cell phones Charlie had bought for them, but pure logic had eventually won out and now all of them were carrying phones that'd been mystically enhanced by Constance—who'd apparently become their primary witch at some point—so that low batteries and reception was never a problem. Meaning they could get in touch with them, or the teams could call for back-up no matter where they were.

Charlie shook those thoughts aside and again reached out empathetically. It was easy to pinpoint the lobby, because the girl currently at the desk—Charlie though it was Sheryl—was extremely nervous. Then he had to start at the strange amount of apathy, just barely colored with disdain and…the only word he could think of was _violence_. It wasn't anger or hate, it was just a pent up willingness to cause harm. He frowned at Constance, "What…?"

"Hey Gunn, we need you guys to come back to the _House_ early…We're not sure yet, but there could be some trouble… Thanks. See you soon… Bye."

Constance waited until Lily had hung up before explaining. "This isn't demons or vampires, my friends. One or two of our visitors have mystical abilities, but I believe they're all completely human." She sighed, as Lily's phone rang. "That would be the front desk. Tell her to let them come up, it won't do us any good keeping them downstairs."

Lily frowned at her, but answered after the second ring. "Hello. Hi Sheryl…" the blonde blinked, her frown deepening, "Yeah… Yeah… OK…" she sighed. "OK, send them up." She slammed the phone down to stare at Constance, "It's a group of lawyers from _Wolfram and Hart_, shouldn't we at least—"

"Two of the lawyers on the way up are fairly big names at _Wolfram and Hart_. They wouldn't come themselves if this was a hit of any kind. They're here as lawyers, with bodyguards." The witch nodded to the phone again. "You might want to call Mrs. Ward. She's the closest thing the _House_ has to a lawyer on-staff."

Charlie frowned, "Isn't she retired?" he murmured, while Lily obediently made a quick call to the much more powerful witch.

"Hi Madam Ward, it's Lily. Could you come over here, please? We have some company from _Wol_—…Yeah, them…OK. See you in ten minutes or so. Thanks." After she finished, Lily started frantically rearranging her desk, mostly by grabbing everything on it and dumping it into one of the drawers while Constance finally answered Charlie's question.

"Yes, but she still knows the law. So unless you want to pull your mother into this, Agatha Ward is who we want to talk to. Besides, she and several other coven leaders are meeting only a few blocks away, remember? Like she just said," Constance nodded to Lily, "They can be here in a few minutes. Ten, at most."

All three turned towards the door as a hurried knock came through it.

Lily slammed the desk drawer she'd crammed all of the papers they'd been looking over into before rising and calling to the door, Constance and Charlie rising with her, "Come in."

The door opened quickly, their nervous desk attendant all-but dashing in after it, but only just out of the way fast enough to avoid being trampled by the mountains of muscle that came in behind her.

Two men that towered over her respectable five-foot-six, both clearly six-foot-something with massively muscular frames dressed in clean-cut suits that did nothing to hide just how dangerous these men could undoubtedly be given the slightest provocation. Charlie was briefly reminded of the half-breed demons that often took jobs as bouncers outside of clubs all over the city, but Sineya wasn't reacting at all to their presence: usually he'd hear something from her if anything demonic or supernatural was nearby, and she was silent. Plus, Constance had already said they were human. Still, they were the source of the suppressed-violence he was feeling. The superiorly dressed and much less-dangerous looking individuals that stepped in behind them were the source of the much more peculiar apathy. And all five were at least slightly disdainful.

One was Cosvell, who wasn't quite as apathetic as his partners. No, he was nervous in their presence, but completely disdainful of the _House_ itself. One of the other lawyers was a woman with long-brown hair, dressed in what was probably the latest fashion for women's suits. The final lawyer was a man that was probably only a little older than Don, dressed like his partner in the latest designer suit. All three were carrying briefcases.

After a moment of speculative silence, the new male-lawyer stepped forward, one hand held out to Charlie. "Dr. Charles Eppes, I presume?"

Charlie nodded slowly, reluctantly accepting the lawyer's hand but shaking it firmly before quickly releasing it to then grudgingly do the same with the woman's hand. "I'm Dr. Eppes," he confirmed with a nod, then stopped, not really wanting to reveal anything they didn't already know, regardless of society's polite conventions.

"I'm Lindsey McDonald, this is Lilah Morgan and I believe you've already met Mr. Cosvell." McDonald paused, glancing around before smiling at Lily and gesturing towards the door. "I believe I saw several more chairs outside, may we—"

Lily blinked, clearly restrained herself from immediately refusing, and instead she nodded, "Um, sure, I'll—"

"Oh no, please." McDonald shook his head again, and gestured towards one of their massive guards, "Mr. Paevin will be happy to get them."

It only took the guard a moment to return with three chairs—one of his huge hands easily able to hold onto two chairs in a slightly awkward grip while the other brought in a second. The lawyers immediately moved towards the new seats while Paevin took his post by the door again.

"There, that's a bit more comfortable for everyone," McDonald smiled at them again, waiting until Charlie, Constance and Lily had also reluctantly sat down after adjusting their chairs to make it easy to watch the lawyer: and to make sure none of them had their back to any of the people from _Wolfram and Hart_. When the three remained silent, his gaze focused on Charlie again as he continued, "We're here representing Mr. Holland Manners, Vice-President of _Wolfram and Hart_ Special Projects. Mr. Cosvell said you were reluctant to meet with Mr. Manners, Dr. Eppes, and we hoped to set any worries you might have to rest."

Charlie nodded slowly, suppressing a frown and ignoring the sharp looks his friends were sending him. "Mr. Cosvell was unwilling to say what the meeting was about this morning. To my knowledge, I have no reason to meet with any member of your firm. I already have excellent legal representation."

"Yes," Ms. Morgan stepped forward, smiling softly. "Cosvell mentioned that. Your mother has an impressive record. Though she is a bit more selective in her clientele then most." She tilted her head to the side slightly, "We were surprised to learn that this—_Angels' House_—did not yet have adequate legal rep—"

"We haven't needed it yet," Lily cut in quickly, one eyebrow rising. "Are you suggesting we do now?"

"No, Miss Wil—"

"It's O'Connor," Lily interrupted, her face tight and Charlie blinked at the sudden rush of panic he sensed from her that was just as suddenly suppressed. "Lily O'Connor."

"Of course, forgive me," Morgan shook her head slightly, a false smile still dominating her face. "Our researchers are among the best in the world, but even they make mistakes occasionally." Before Lily could reply the lawyer's eyes turned to Constance. "And Ms. Westwood, it's been a while."

"It has," Constance agreed with a short nod, her tone colder than Charlie had ever heard from her as her dark blue eyes locked with the lawyer's for a moment, before darting towards the bodyguards that were still looming back by the door.

"Please excuse Mr. Paevin and Mr. Bardoc," McDonald told them, still smiling widely. Although his smile was just as fake as his associates. "I'm afraid your establishment is located in somewhat dubious surroundings. Our security force couldn't let us come here without a few shadows."

Lily frowned at him, "No one here would harm anyone without reason."

"I'm sure," McDonald agreed with a seemingly easy nod, before shrugging, which looked strange as it made his entire formal-jacket roll for a fast flash of flippancy.

Annoyed with the 'pleasantries' after only a few minutes of them, Charlie shook his head and sighed. "Again, Ms. Morgan, Mr. McDonald, Mr. Cosvell, why are you here? I believe my m—attorney made it very clear this morning that any meetings with myself would need to be made through her office."

"She did indeed," McDonald replied, nodding slightly after shooting a sharp look as Cosvell that silenced any of the remarks the man clearly wanted to make. "Still, we were hoping we might be of service here."

"At _Angels' House_, you mean?" Lily asked, one pale eyebrow rising again.

"Yes," McDonald confirmed with a smile. "Establishments such as these often need help—legally and financially—to survive. Though you've certainly already had quite a bit of success with the city's generosity, the public's opinion can be very—" he waved his hand as if the action would help him pick the right word.

"Finicky?" Morgan suggested and her associated nodded.

"Yes, finicky, if not managed well. _Wolfram and Hart_ would like to assist _Angels' House_ in that regard."

"We seem to be doing well enough on our own, thank you," Lily shook her head slightly.

McDonald nodded again, "Of course. But that's no reason not to accept hel—"

"Many of the people we want to help don't trust big businesses and corporations, Mr. McDonald," Lily told him, still frowning as she folded her hands in front of her but remained standing.

"Perhaps, but they—"

This time Charlie cut him off, seeing what Lily was aiming for, "Are our number one priority."

"Of course," McDonald nodded again, though his smile had disappeared. After a moment of silence he forced another shrug while slipping a hand into his coat pocket to draw a card out of it, moving closer to Lily's desk to place the card on top of it. "Well, here's my card if you find reason to change your mind."

Lily nodded, "Thank you. Is that all?"

"No," Ms. Morgan moved over to the desk also, setting her briefcase on the edge to open it slightly and shuffle through its contents for a moment before pulling a small piece of paper out. Then, after clicking the case shut, she handed the paper to Charlie. "We have reason to believe this girl visited your shelter last week. Do you recognize her?"

Charlie kept his face blank as he stared down at a photograph of a smiling Denise Williams. After a moment he shook his head, "No, I don't. But I'm really not good with names or faces," he handed the picture to Lily. "That's something I'm probably going to have to work on when I start teaching."

"You could just make your students wear nametags," Lily suggested, a clear laugh in her voice even as her eyes turned to the picture. She looked at it a moment, but also shook her head. "No. She looks a little familiar, so she might've been here at some point but we get so many visitors, the ones that aren't regulars are kinda hard to keep track of." She handed the picture back to Mogan, "Sorry."

"Why do you want to know, anyway?" Charlie asked after a moment, while Mogan shook her head in response to Lily's apology. "I thought lawyers just handled stuff in court, don't you let the police and other investigators handle everything else?"

Both McDonald and Morgan laughed, shaking their heads.

"Oh, we do a fair amount of leg-work too," Morgan told him.

McDonald continued with a nod, "Miss Williams is a client of ours. As is her fiancé, Russell Winters. Mr. Winters would like to resolve their dispute with as little fuss as possible. I believe he still wants to marry her, despite her flightiness."

Charlie shrugged, deciding to ignore the elevation in Denise's supposed-relationship with Winters. They all knew Winters' had never asked Denise to marry him, nor would he. "That really doesn't have anything to do with us."

"Mr. Winters would like to at least see Miss Williams," McDonald told them, his voice firm. "And as she has visited here before—"

"If we see here, we can tell her that, I guess," Charlie shrugged. "Though we certainly won't force her, whether she has reason to hide from him or not."

"Mr. Winters has never been accused of and shall never be convicted of any crime." McDonald told him, tone a little cooler than before as he finished firmly, "_Ever_."

Charlie shrugged again, "I wouldn't know about things like that, really. My mother and brother are the ones that work with the legal system, I'm just a mathematician."

"Oh come now, Dr. Eppes." Ms. Morgan shook her head, smiling at him. "You're hardly '_just_ a mathematician.' Many have hailed you as the modern-day Einstein."

"I've heard that," Charlie admitted, but shrugged again. "Not sure how true it is. B—"

"Our firm has more faith in you, doctor," Ms. Morgan cut in, her voice still warm but professional. "It is our hope that you might consider consulting with us." Her colleague cut in when Charlie started to shake his head.

"Just part-time, of course," Mr. McDonald said, his tone warmer again. "We understand that you have plans to go into teaching—"

"Always an admirable goal," Ms. Morgan commented, ignoring the look McDonald shot her at the interruption.

"—But surely, with two members of your family working in the legal system, you yourself must have some interest in it?"

Truthfully Charlie had never looked into his mother's work. Not really. He'd helped with some statistical analyses and the like, but that was about it. And it wasn't like he could help with Don's work. He only saw Don a few times a year at best and his brother had no interest in airing any work stories—past or on-going—at their family gatherings. But despite the disgust he felt at the obvious immorality demonstrated by _Wolfram and Hart_, researching them, combined with his involvement in Annie's patrols, then the _Watch_ and the _House_, had stirred some interest.

"I guess," the genius allowed, shrugging slightly as the lawyers smiled at him. Though he was a little amused to note that Cosvell's smile looked more like a grimace—obviously someone really didn't want him to work part-time for _Wolfram and Hart_. It made Charlie wonder exactly what his mother had said to the gray-eyed man. "Though I'd obviously be more inclined to helping my mother. I know where she stands on almost everything, where she draws lines."

McDonald was obviously suppressing a frown even as Morgan kept smiling, and shrugged. "There's a funny thing about lines, you know. They're so easy to blur. Just like black and white—you mix 'em together and you get gray. Everyone's gray."

"Maybe, but some are much closer to white than others."

"Ah yes, the sheep of the world." Morgan tilted her head slightly, still somehow smiling. "Though I would've taken you for one of the wolves, even with that hair. But maybe you're still a pup. Not ready to be out in the big-bad world."

Before anything more could be said, Lily's office door opened and Gunn walked in, followed by several members of his _Watch_ patrol-group.

"This is—"

McDonald cut Lily's introduction off with a nod towards Gunn, "Mr. Gunn. Your reputation precedes you," he stepped over to the slightly younger, holding his card out again. "I'm Lindsey McDonald with _Wolfram and Hart_—"

"Evenin', counselor," Gunn nodded to him, but then brushed by without accepting the lawyer's card, moving over to Lily's desk to lean against the side just a little bit behind Charlie while the rest of the group took up places around the room. Charlie was a little amused to see the nervous looks the lawyers' bodyguards were shooting the massive Rye and the almost-as-massive Gerald while Devon leaned against the office door-jam. "Sorry ta interrupt, but we've got a meeting with the heads here."

"I'm sure," McDonald nodded, still smiling as he slipped his card back into the breast-pocket of his blazer. "We only have a few more questions."

When Gunn opened his mouth, probably to protest, Charlie cut in. "Then ask them quickly, please. I'd rather not be here all night." He suppressed a sigh of relief as the familiar presence—the calm, controlled power—of Agatha Ward and the other coven leaders washed over him, and he didn't even try to suppress the urge to look towards the open doorway as they could clearly hear more people climbing the _House_'s steps.

Lily offered the lawyers a slightly forced—but entirely fake—smile of apology, "I'm sorry. We're supposed to be meeting this evening."

"Oh, we won't be much longer," McDonald repeated. He shot a glance at Cosvell that made the slightly older lawyer close his mouth without saying anything as Devon moved in and to the side of office doorway to let several of the most powerful witches in the city enter the room. "I agree with Dr. Eppes, believe me," he insisted with a small grin. "The day's been more than long enough already."

Charlie rose from his seat at Madam Ward neared him and turned it slightly to make it available for her, "Madam?"

"Thank you, Dr. Eppes," the eighty-something-year-old woman nodded, smiling gently as she sat down before sparing anyone else in the room a glance. "Mr. McDonald, Miss Morgan, what brings you here?"

"Mrs. Ward," Morgan nodded to the elder lady, the move seemed easy for her but her jaw was a little too tightly clenched for her to be truly relaxed. Though Charlie could still barely detect any emotion from her, which was starting to bother him.

"We've already cleared up most of our business here," McDonald cut in, shaking his head. "We just have one more question for Dr. Eppes."

Charlie raised an eyebrow in response, but remained silent.

"This final question comes from our Senior Partners, our, uh, board of directors, if you will. Our techs noticed some research you've been doing over the past few days, and they would like to know if we might help you find whatever it is you're looking for?"

The genius started slightly, but tried to hide it by replying quickly. "I'm—I'm not quite sure what you're talking about."

McDonald's eyebrow rose, "_Wolfram and Hart_ has a whole department of technicians that monitors internet traffic related to the corporation and our clientele. And according to their reports you've been busy the last few days. We'd like to know what you're looking for and why."

After a moment Charlie shook his head, "Just looking, I guess." He wondered how much of this 'department' was actually made up of computer-techs and just how dependent it was on magic. Such flagrant use of the mystical arts would, according to Constance and many other mages he'd recently spoken to on the subject, be well-inline with _Wolfram and Hart_'s egocentric exploitations of magic.

"Hmm, really?" Morgan shook her head slowly, her forced-smile having faded slightly but still pulling slightly at the corners of her lips.

Charlie deliberately met her eyes straight on as he replied, "Really," his tone firm even as he felt Sineya's return to his side of the bond. _She_ didn't seem particularly bothered by the lawyers, but she was interested.

"A whole department to monitor internet traffic related to your company seems a bit over-the-top for a company with nothing to hide," Constance spoke up again, breaking the icy, speculative silence she'd been holding for several minutes before.

"_Wolfram and Hart_ is a legitimate corporation with nothing to hide, ma'am," McDonald replied coolly, his face blank again. "Despite numerous investigations by the police—here in LA and elsewhere—as well as the FBI, the NSA and many other agencies."

"If you've got nothin' ta hide I gotta wonder why so many people are lookin'," Gunn commented, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the lawyers, though he didn't move from the side of Lily's desk.

McDonald shrugged, "We're lawyers. Everyone hates lawyers."

"'Cept when they need one," Cosvell piped up in agreement.

"Oh no," Morgan shook her head. "They hate us even then, they just make an effort to hide it. Still," she sighed and shook her head, seeming sad. "You're probably right. We'll have to have a talk with the PR department about improving our public image sometime soon."

Gunn scoffed, "How? Not like you can buy up all the reporters in the city, freedom a speech means they can write anythin' they want."

Morgan laughed at that, shaking her head. "True. Doesn't necessarily mean they can publish it, though. And one should never underestimate the power of positive publicity."

"No," McDonald agreed with a nod, even as he raised an eyebrow at Charlie. "But surely, even with the media's often less than flattering portrayal of our firm, you must recognize that—after all the investigation files you hacked into, LAPD, FBI—that _Wolfram and Hart_ couldn't possibly have anything to hide."

Charlie wondered why the two lawyers were so completely focused on him. Sure, their bodyguards recognized Gunn and the other _Watch_ members as the real threats in the room, but the two head lawyers almost ignored everyone else in the room. After a moment of silence he shrugged again, "I really couldn't say." He shook his head as all three lawyers shot frowns of varying degrees in his direction. "But I certainly couldn't agree that just because someone else conducted similar research before I started mine that their findings are all there are to find."

Lily spoke up again before either lawyer could reply, "Is there anything else?" her tone clearly stated that there better not be, though her words were wholly polite.

McDonald and Morgan glanced at each other—though neither seemed to care about Cosvell, who was looking back and forth between them—and then Morgan nodded.

"For the moment at least, though we do hope to hear from you in the very near future, Dr. Eppes," she smiled at him again, even as she took out another one of her cards and moved forward, grasping his hand lightly but firmly to place it in his pliable palm and closed his fist around it.

Charlie was tempted to just drop the card as he watched her step back, but he realized that would be both unnecessary and childish, so he refrained and instead nodded. "I'll think about it."

"Please do," McDonald encouraged again, smiling at him and then at the others around the room. He shook his head as Lily stated to move around her desk, "No, thank you Miss O'Connor. We can let ourselves out." So saying, he nodded and moved towards the door. Once there he stopped to look back at Charlie again, "Do keep in mind, doctor, that it can be dangerous to be too disagreeable." Then he led the others out of the room at a sedate pace.

Gunn jerked his head towards the door just as the lawyers' bodyguards had passed through, sending the other members of his _Watch_ group out after them. "Make sure they don't get lost." As the door closed behind them, he looked at Charlie and raised an eyebrow. "I can throw that in the can for ya, Doc."

Charlie shook his head, frowning slightly at the nickname that was becoming far too popular here. "No. I'll hold onto it." He shrugged when all of his friends stared at him, though he was a little relieved to note that Constance, at least, was nodding. "What? It's a source of information, just like anything else."

Gunn laughed, "You're not actually gonna try ta pump info outta one a the evil lawyers, are ya?"

"Maybe." Charlie shrugged again as he leaned down to slip Lilah Morgan's card into his backpack, which was leaning again the side of Lily's desk. He paused momentarily to look at Constance, "It's not—"

"No. It's safe. Just an ordinary business card," the witch reassured him, smiling as the mathematician finished sliding the card home before sitting up in his seat once more.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at Gunn, "So, how was your patrol before we called?"

_6 1 9 2 0 8 0 1 9 __0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 4, 1996**_

Faith jerked awake with a gasp, drawing in frantic breaths as she struggled to suppress the panic that she could feel erupting from someplace within her.

"Faith?"

The brunette couldn't suppress a start even as her instinctive—Slayer driven—response was to throw the nearest weapon—a small knife she'd kept under her pillow since she was seven—at the thing that had startled her.

Fortunately it was Buffy and not Joyce that had come to check on her, and the older Slayer didn't even bat an eyelash as she snatched the tiny knife out of midair just a few inches away from her face. Though she did frown at the knife and then at its thrower. "OK, this we might need to talk about after. Can't have you accidentally killing my Mom, can we?"

Faith shook her head in agreement, wincing at the thought even as her breathing got a little easier, something in her—maybe the Slayer, maybe the little girl that had always wanted an older sibling—infinitely reassured by the older teenager's presence. "Sorry."

Buffy shrugged as she set the knife down on Faith's bedside table before dropping down onto the side of the bed. "You OK?"

"I-I'm—" Faith shook her head, frowning as she spotted the clock, which read 4:37. Only a little over three hours after they'd gotten in from patrol. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"I was thirsty," the blonde replied.

Faith was pretty sure she way lying. It was hard to tell with B. Sometimes she was an open book. Other times she was a blank slate.

"So was that a nightmare or a Slay-mare?"

Faith blinked, and then chuckled, "Slay-mare?"

"They're not really nightmares. Giles calls them 'the dreams,' 'cept there's nothin' dreamy about 'em. Willow calls them 'visions' and Whistler—messenger from the Powers-That-Be—calls 'em messages from his employers." The older Slayer shrugged again. "What'd you wanna call 'em?"

Faith shrugged, "Slay-mares works, I guess."

"So?"

Faith closed her eyes, trying to remember what she'd seen, but then shook her head. She bit her lip as she opened her eyes again to meet the other Slayer's gaze. "I don't remember wha—"

"Start with what you do remember. Something scared you?"

"Yeah," the brunette nodded slowly. "Yeah. Somethin'—" she closed her eyes again, forcing herself to remember that terrible feeling. "Something—No _some things_ are coming."

"More than one demon?"

"Yeah—damn it!" Faith snapped, her eyes coming open as she clenched her fists. "Why can't I remember?!"

"I know, it sucks, doesn't it?" Buffy shrugged when Faith shot her a confused look. "When we first start gettin' these things, they're always so vagued-up. They're practically useless until, like, right before the apocalypse." She shrugged again as she rose, "Not much we can do to change that, though. Want some water?"

Faith glanced at her bedside table to see her customary water glass was empty, and blinked as she remembered finishing it off right before bed. "Yeah," She nodded as she rose, grabbing her cup as she slipped out of bed to follow the blonde downstairs. She glanced at the bathroom as she walked past it, "Faucet's fine ya know."

"Yeah, but bottle's better. 'Sides, Mom just got a huge pack of Fiji water. Can't let it go to waste."

Faith laughed softly, mindful of the echo that risked waking Buffy's mom up, as her bedroom was right at the top of the stairs. She shook her head as the older Slayer led the way into the kitchen. "I don't think water goes bad, B."

Buffy shrugged, "Charlie said something about the plastic breaking down, but I'm pretty sure that takes a while. Still. It's Fiji." She took a sip of her drink then looked at it with a small frown. "Where is Fiji, anyway?" she asked as she grabbed one for the younger teen before closing the fridge door.

"Think it's somewhere near Australia." Faith shrugged, accepting one of the chilled, oddly-shaped bottles the blonde handed her from the fridge and easily twisting the cap off with next-to-no effort.

"Oh. It's not in the Caribbean?"

Faith blinked at the blonde. "No. I'm pretty sure it's a lot farther than that," she commented as she hopped up slightly to sit on the side of the counter, taking a long drink from her bottle. "You could always look it up."

Buffy shook her head, "Nah. Too much work," she raised an eyebrow at the younger teen, "Mom hates it when we do that, you know."

"You still do it."

"I know," Buffy nodded as she hopped up beside her, shrugging as she opened her water bottle again. "It makes me feel a little less height deprived. You know, puts almost everyone at eye-level with me," she gestures around her head with a wave before tossing back another gulp of water.

Faith laughed again, smiling slightly. "I guess it does," she chuckled, shaking her head as she glanced around.

"So it help at all?"

"What?" Faith blinked at the elder Slayer again.

"The waking, walking and water," Buffy nodded towards her again, "Help you remember anything?" she tapped her head, before taking another sip of water.

Faith blinked again, thought about it, then shook her head. "No. No, I don't think so. I'm not even scared anymore."

"Well," the blonde shrugged again, "It was worth a try. And hey, not scared is good." Then she frowned at the nearby clock. "Are you tired?"

"Not really, no."

"Wanna do another patrol? Really clean the town out before I leave tomo—tonight?"

"Sure," Faith shrugged. "I mean, I can sleep in most of the day. But don't you have to go to school?"

The blonde shrugged again. "Yeah, but I have no tests, all my homework's done and I have a sub in math, so I don't really have to be a hundred percent awake for most of the day. Just when I report to Giles and when I get to the LA after the two-hour bus ride I can take a power-nap on. Oh. Make sure I don't leave without the Watcher book, will you?"

"OK, sure." Faith finished her water off and put the cap back on before easily tossing her bottle into the Summers' nearby recycling bin, where it was quickly followed by Buffy's empty bottle as both Slayers hopped off the counter. "Let's go hunting."

Buffy glanced at Faith's nightwear and then down at her own—tank tops and boxers in different colors and styles. "We might wanna change first."

Faith glanced at her own attire and shrugged again, "Yeah. Guess we should at least put some pants on, shouldn't we?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, then both Slayers hurried upstairs again on nearly silent feet.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 __0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Bus Terminal, Union Station, Los Angeles, California – Friday, October 4, 1996**_

Buffy looked around, shaking her head slightly to get rid of the last-minute grogginess she still had from her nap. A wide smile spread across her face as Sineya suddenly pinpointed Charlie's familiar presence, and she was turning to hurry towards her welcoming party even before they'd started calling out to her.

"Annie!" Mrs. Eppes was smiling as Buffy hugged her and she enfolded the younger blonde in a warm hug. "Welcome back."

"You don't mind?" Buffy glanced up at Charlie's mom, a barely-there worry resurfacing with the opportunity to ask.

"Of course not," Mrs. Eppes shook her head firmly. "We're all happy to have you. Alan wanted to come to, but he had a few things he had to finish up at work, since we're going to Washington next week."

Buffy nodded as she stepped back, "It's OK," before she could say any more another blonde's arms closed around her. "Hi Lily," she smiled warmly at the older teen, glad to see that she was definitely doing a lot better than before. "Good to see you."

"You too, Annie," Lily nodded, smiling as she stepped back. "Everyone at the _House_ can't wait to see you again." Her smile widened as she stepped to the side slightly, giving Buffy a clear path to Charlie.

After a moment's hesitation the Slayer shook her head and darted into the genius's arms, seizing him in what was probably a much-too-tight hug, judging from the gasp of air he immediately took, but he didn't complain as he returned the hug as tightly as he could.

"Hi Annie," the genius murmured into her hair but easily caught by her super-sensitive hearing.

"Hi Charlie," the Slayer returned just as softly. The words whispered into his shirt in the loud, crowded station somehow still made their way to Charlie's entirely human ears, while in both their heads Sineya purred in contentment.

**

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End of _Chapter 6: Mortal Peril – Part I._

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**

AN: Well, there's Part I of _Mortal Peril_. Sorry there's no real peril to our protagonists mortality in it. Makes the title seem a bit misleading, but most of that's in Parts II and III. This is mostly a transitional chapter. But it's around 40 pages long, so I decided to stop it there. Plus that was a nice, not-quite-cliffy-ending. And there was a lot of foreshadowing and some character development, so it's not a total loss, right?

…**And I don't think I actually have any 'in chapter notes' for this chapter. Weird. If I missed some, please let me know. Or if I threw something in that you think should be explained, please say so. Who knows, maybe I meant to explain it and just forgot to do so. **

**I'm hoping to have the next part—which is a lot more action—ready 'soon'. Unfortunately, school work and life in general does have to come first and I have a lot of paper/projects due and some tests coming up in the next two weeks. So when I'll be able to work on the new chapter is anyone's guess. **

**Hope everyone liked this one, though.**

**Thanks to those of you that have reviewed already. It's always appreciated. ^_^**

**Bye for now!**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 7: Mortal Peril – Part II.**_


	8. Chapter 7: Mortal Peril P2 of 4

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: I've noticed some of the authors of fics I'm reading like to recommend fics THEY read at the start of chapters, and have found a few great reads that way, so I thought I'd do the same. It's hard to pick just one, but for this chapter I'll go with ****Carving Out A Future**** by ****Dreamfall****. It's a BUFFY/FIREFLY crossover, which won **_**Best Unfinished Television Crossover**_** in 2007. The story is centered in Firefly and excludes everyone except Xander—all the other Scoobies have been dead for centuries—but it's been a great read so far.**

**I **_**would**_** try recommending a BUFFY/NUMB3RS crossover that's not listed here on TTH, if I could. Unfortunately I haven't found any. There's a few one-shots on , but that's all I've seen so far. If anyone else has had better luck PLEASE tell me. Oh, and any recs for other good fics would be appreciated too. I follow a LOT of fandoms, so I'm not going to list them all. Feel free to recommend anything you liked. I prefer finished fics, but they're obviously a rare-breed so anything worth reading would be appreciated. ^_~**

**Once again, thank you to **_**NeverTooOld**_** for beta-reading. **

**Enjoy the chapter! ^_^**

**Warnings: I can't think of any. If you do while reading this chapter, please let me know and I'll add them in.**

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 7: Mortal Peril**_

_**Part II**_

_0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5__ 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Mrs. Eppes' Car, , Los Angeles, California – Friday, October 4, 1996**_

Buffy rolled her eyes, "I said I'd bring it, didn't I?" she turned her direction to Lily, who was sitting on her left side, smiling. "Honestly. With how many times he brought up that book in the last week, a stranger might think I'm one of those people that forgets stuff all the time!" Then she turned back to her right again to remind Charlie, who was also smiling, "Which you _know_ I am _not_."

Everyone laughed and Charlie shook his head, his smile a little rueful. "I'm sorry, Annie," he shrugged apologetically. "I just really want to start working on it."

"Yes, Charlie can be a little enthusiastic when he finds a new project to work on." Mrs. Eppes interjected lightly, smiling as she glanced at the trio of teenagers in her backseat—because all of them had wanted to sit together, thus leaving the front passenger's seat empty—before turning her attention back to the road when the traffic started to move again as the light they'd stopped at turned green. "What's this one about, anyway? I don't remember hearing much about it."

Buffy blinked and glanced at Charlie, and was immensely relieved when he quickly replied. The secrecy surrounding the supernatural had always been hard for her. She was pretty sure that if not for the seemingly innate desire almost all human beings shared—wanting to deny the existence of demons and magic—everyone that came into contact with Buffy herself would probably know about it.

"Just a statistical analysis of female athletes of a special skill set," Charlie was telling his mother, the ease with which the white lie rolled off his tongue telling Buffy he'd planned it, a suspicion confirmed by the twinge of guilt she sensed along their bond. "I started it a few weeks ago, but the book Annie found has a lot of data I can't get anywhere else."

"Oh? What kind of athletes?"

"Exceptionally gifted girls," the genius replied immediately, making Buffy blush and Lily smile. "There aren't many records of women performing athletic feats in any way before the early 1900s, but Annie found an exception."

"And it was really just sitting in your high school library?" Mrs. Eppes shook her head, continuing without waiting for a reply. "That was lucky, wasn't it?"

Buffy shrugged, "I guess." Then she smiled at Charlie, "Can't wait to see what Charlie comes up with, though."

Mrs. Eppes nodded, smiling back at them again after coming to a stop for yet another red light. "Yeah, it sounds interesting," the older woman commented, before raising an eyebrow at Buffy. "So how are things back home, Annie? Charlie said you had a bit of a rough start?"

Buffy looked down, sighing softly before replying. "Yeah. Had some issues to work out with my mom and my friends, but that's mostly taken care of now."

"Mostly?"

The Slayer shrugged, "We're still workin' some of kinks out, but we're all friends again, at least."

"That's good," Lily interjected, smiling and shaking her head when the others looked at her. "Obviously I didn't know your friends that well in Sunnydale, but you don't deserve any trouble from them. Not with everything you do for everyone."

"I wouldn't say that," Buffy shrugged uncomfortably. "I owe my friends a lot, too."

"But real friends don't tend to collect those kinds of debts," Mrs. Eppes commented, her gaze growing concerned as she looked back at them. She paused for a long second, then opened her mouth to continue, only to be interrupted by her son.

"Mom, the light," Charlie pointed out just before the car behind them honked as the traffic around and ahead of their car moved forward. He blinked as he actually heard his mother bite back the later half of a softly spoken curse as she turned forward, and Buffy smirked at him, her superior hearing easily confirming the older woman really had said what he thought.

"So how was your trip?" Lily asked curiously and Buffy smiled.

"Great. Don't remember anything past the bus pulling out of the station in Sunnydale and waking up just outside of the city limits."

"I thought you had trouble sleeping when you travel?" Charlie asked, and Buffy nodded again. Usually she did, at least since she'd become the Slayer. Her superior senses made little distractions standout all the more for her, little bumps that most people could ignore, the sounds of speed her vehicle and others, the lights of other vehicles, the smells. But then again, she had exhausted herself with the second patrol she and Faith had gone on.

"Usually I do, this time I didn't though."

"That's good." Lily commented and Charlie quickly nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it is," Buffy agreed, before asking curiously. "So how are things going at the House, Lily? Charlie said you've been expanding a lot?"

"Yeah, it's been great. We get more volunteers for everything every week." Lily nodded at Charlie then, "Actually, a lot of people have signed up for the classes too. Charlie's math for dummy's—"

"It's _not_ math for dummies," Charlie cut in with a severe frown as he insisted. "It's math for non-mathematicians!"

"Gunn renamed it math for dummies." Lily told him, smirking slightly while Buffy giggled at the genius's shocked expression. "He thought your name for it might scare people who didn't finish high school away. Math for dummies is more approachable."

Charlie shook his head quickly, frowning severely as he shot her a glare—and Buffy blinked as a very clear and seemingly deliberate burst of irritation hit her from over their bond—even as the mathematician turned his eyes back to Lily. "No one will want to come to a class called m—"

"Actually, almost all of your classes are full," Lily told him, still smirking as his frown gave way to a look of pure shock. "Your class, the First Aid one that Bob's gonna be teaching and the Self-Defense class are the only ones that have full houses so far."

Buffy smiled as Mrs. Eppes turned her car onto a familiar off-ramp, "Imagine that."

"What other classes are offered at the shelter, Lily?" Mrs. Eppes asked curiously.

"Oh, tons." Lily enthused, smiling brightly. "We have the ones that are full, plus one for helping people get GEDs and get into college—that one's bringing in a lot of funding from the government, and we've already had some representatives from a bunch of schools in LA visit to check it out—"

"I can imagine," Mrs. Eppes chuckled, "It's a great idea."

Lily laughed even as she nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it definitely pays to have a genius hanging around." At the confused look Mrs. Eppes directed at her when they stopped at a stop sign before moving on, Lily explained, "That was Charlie's idea too."

"Actually Gunn did most of the work for that," Charlie objected. "I wanted it to be there originally, but he and Bob are the ones that figured out how to make it work."

"And it was your name that probably drew all of the schools to us," Lily commented. "_CalSci_ was the first one to call."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Eppes commented, a very clear note of pride in her voice.

"Yeah, it is," Buffy agreed immediately, smiling as she deliberately sent a warm wave of approval and pride over their bond, just to be sure Charlie was aware of how both she and—she was sure—his parents felt about this. Charlie looked down for a moment, his cheeks reddening slightly, and Buffy quickly redirected the conversation to give him a chance to collect himself. "Have you been to the _House_ yet, Maggie?"

"No, dear," Mrs. Eppes sighed, now clearly regretful even as she turned the car onto a very familiar street. "I'm afraid Alan and I have both been frightfully busy these last couple weeks. Though we certainly _want_ to see it." She chuckled shortly as she turned into their driveway, stopping right alongside her husband's car. "I don't suppose you need a lawyer? I might be able to get the office to write some hours off as business if that were the case."

Buffy frowned as Charlie's part-embarrassed, part-proud emotionally state suddenly shifted to something between panic and horror as he exchanged a look with a suddenly very tense Lily. "Wh—"

"I-I'm not sure, Mrs. Eppes." Lily replied quickly, shaking her head and forcing a smile as Mrs. Eppes glanced back at her after putting the car in park. "I'd have to check. Maybe."

"Of course," Mrs. Eppes nodded easily while she moved out of the car, even as the trio in back did so as well, Buffy easily sliding out right behind Charlie.

Buffy wanted to question her two friends on their sudden tenseness, but realizing it definitely wasn't something Charlie wanted discussed in front of his Mom, turned her eyes to the familiar, welcoming sight of the Eppes family's Craftsman home. She raised an eyebrow at her friend's mother, smirking slightly as she nodded towards the front door. "No doormat?"

Mrs. Eppes snorted in seeming disgust as they walked towards the house. "We've gone through four so far. Since you left, Charlie's somehow destroyed every single one I've bought." Then she smiled at Lily, "Why don't you come in for dinner, too, dear? We haven't seen much of you lately."

"Thanks, Mrs. Eppes."

"Lily, I've told you to call me Maggie a dozen times already."

"Fourteen times, actually," Charlie corrected, smiling as the quick mock-glare his mother sent his way, which melted into a small smile as he held the front door open for the three women.

Mrs. Eppes then chuckled, "It still seems amazing," she murmured to Lily, nodding towards the younger blonde's house. "Annie's cousin moving in next door."

"Oh, uh, that was actually my fault," Buffy quickly admitted, continuing as everyone looked at her while Charlie sent a wave of reassurance over their bond, letting her know she could continue. "When Charlie told me it was for sale, I told Lily." She shrugged slightly, "Since she wanted to move here anyway, I though it'd be a good idea for her to live near friends of mine."

Mrs. Eppes smiled at them, nodding. "Well, we're happy to have her." Then she waved towards the living room seating area. "Make yourself at home," she told them as she headed towards the kitchen, where they could hear pots and pans clicking together inside. "While I check on my husband."

_0 0 0 3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Friday, October 4, 1996**_

Charlie had to chuckle as he watched Annie watch Lily and 'Lyla'—Denise in disguise—walk home. After all, they were only going right next door in one of the most peaceful streets in the city. A street that had become especially peaceful in recent months as the watch and all of the gangs in LA—or at least the ones aware of the supernatural, which most were out of necessity—now associated both Charlie and Lily with it, meaning—according to Lily at least—it was to be protected. So the gangs did not allow crime of any kind they could control near it, and the watch patrolled this area much more frequently then any other protected area, despite the fact that there'd been one vampire sighted—and staked—on the this street after the ones that had attacked him and met their end at the eldest Slayer's hands.

Still, Charlie knew he'd usually watch Lily walk home too. It was hard not to be protective of your friends, when you knew what was out there. And, of course, 'Lyla' was actually in very real danger, and thus needed all the protection she could get. Hopefully what they'd given her would be enough until her problem—the vampire that was obsessed with her—was taken care of this weekend. It should be, as it'd worked for several days already, but that fact didn't make any of those who knew her situation any less protective.

"What?"

"You don't even realize it, do you?" He asked, a wide smile stretching easily across his face as he met her eyes. "When you do that."

Her brows came together in a clear expression of confusion as she shook her head, "Do what?"

"Watch us. You watch everyone."

Annie blinked slowly, frowning slightly as she considered it while long, dark-brown eyelashes came down over vivid green eyes, followed by lightly colored eyelids that rapidly receded into shadows again as her eyes opened and her face settled into a thoughtful expression. "I guess I do, don't I?" she shook her head, looking down and away as she finished softly, "Sorry."

Charlie shook his head quickly, "No, don't be." He told her firmly, smiling as her eyes came up to meet his. "One, it's probably smart, and doesn't harm us at all. If anything, it could one day lead to you saving our lives at a completely random moment instead of just when we're expecting to come up against danger. Two, it's natural to you: the desire to protect your friends and family. And it's sweet." She looked away for a moment again, but he knew she believed what he was saying, and accepted it. As they'd told Lily in one of brief times they'd had away from his parents well-meaning, but necessarily ignorant ears, the power of their bond to one another had clearly grown much more then either had consciously realized.

He could now feel every single emotion that passed through Annie's consciousness, and she could feel his. Sineya's voice was louder too, but for the most part she'd refrained from speaking, and only expressed her happiness at their closeness through the faint purring both had heard in the backs of their minds for the last several hours.

An apparent drawback to their heightened ability to sense one another, however, seemed to be the almost complete inability to sense anyone else. Something Charlie hadn't fully realized he'd started to depend on, if only a little.

It'd been very, very useful to him. His brilliant mind was not as easily distracted as it used to be, but he could still get caught up in his work and knew that that occasionally worried his parents. But the first twinge of worry on his radar would always draw him out of his work before they spoke up, and his apparent awareness of their presence quickly reassured them that he was quite able to take care of himself. But with Annie here, her emotions—engulfed by Sineya's delight—almost completely drowned out the emotions of everyone else around him.

So it had come as a great surprise to him when he realized halfway through dinner that both of his parents minds were elsewhere from time to time. Oh they were excellent hosts and happy to have Annie staying with them and Lily dining with them, but still they weren't always completely focused on the evening. Maybe they were thinking about their respective jobs. Maybe they were wondering at Annie's abrupt visit.

He didn't know. He didn't even really know what there emotional state was.

He was sure they were happy with Annie visiting, though he couldn't feel it because whatever happiness they were feeling was easily outshone by the joy that Sineya, Annie and Charlie all shared together.

He supposed he should at least be happy that whatever they were feeling in their distracted moments wasn't poignant enough for his and Annie's developing empathetic senses to stand up and take notice. At the very least, their emotions were not extremely bad, they were just unknown. And that, after weeks of being able to sense the slightest changes in his loved ones emotional state—in anyone's or almost anyone's, with the interesting exception of the lawyers from _Wolfram and Hart_ and the mages that could control and shield themselves—it was a little disconcerting.

More so for Charlie, he assumed, than it would be for Annie. The world had known that Charles Eppes was exception since he first proved he was capable of mathematics far beyond his age-groups level of understanding several months before his fourth birthday. From then on he'd been cocooned in a world of numbers and learning. A world that had fascinated him almost entirely, the only real exception being those times he allowed himself to wonder what it might be like to be normal. To play with kids his own age, to be welcomed by them and not ostracized by his intimidating intelligence and to truly enjoy playing games with them and not worry about his too-brilliant brain being bored. Surrounded by special tutors and all the wonders of mathematics and everything else he could learn from his teachers, that curiosity was frequently subdued. It'd started to show itself much more around his big brother, Don.

Especially when he'd joined Don in high school. When he'd learned to _hate_ school. He'd still loved learning, but learning with Don's peer group—being ostracized and occasionally bullied by teenagers five to eight years his senior but angered by or at least uncomfortable his presence amongst them—had certainly not made him like going to school.

He'd been so excited when his parents had decided that it would be okay for Charlie to join Don in high school the year his brother entered the tenth grade. After all, Don'd be able to look after him. And Charlie'd get to spend more time with his brother. Only it hadn't worked out that way.

Don _had_ protected Charlie from bullies. Thus Charlie had only actually gotten beaten up, shoved in his locker and stuff like that a few times before Don had sorted them out. It hadn't been that hard for him. Don'd been one of the most popular guys in school, and most of his teammates on the school baseball team—boys Don had been friends with since he'd first started playing in Little League several years before—were used to Don's kid-brother and willing to tolerate him. And look out for him, if Don asked it. Charlie had had to be careful and not run to any of the newer jocks—boys that Don hadn't grown up with but only met in high school—but most of them were willing to at least make sure he made it to school, to all of his classes, to lunch, and home at the end of the day. Most of the time. But heaven forbid he might actually want to _do_ something with any of them.

Thus Charlie had ended up being more than a little socially handicapped. He'd been forced out of his shell a bit at Princeton, but it wasn't until Annie'd dashed into his life—saving it and giving him the gift of not only her friendship, but the slowly developing ability to truly read others as well—that he'd started feeling more comfortable with meeting new people.

Since then his circle of friends had grown immensely. Before his 'friends' had really only been his family and a few of the professors he'd grown closer to. And all of them—save his brother, Don, who frequently didn't want anything to do with him—were much older than him, and most of them—including Don—lived far away. Though Dr. Fleinhardt, his first physics professor at Princeton and an avid and helpful friend and mentor thereafter, was considering moving out west to teach at _CalSci_. But now, only a few months after Annie's intervention, Charlie was friends with many people from all different backgrounds. True, all of them were people he'd met through the _House_ or some other affiliation with the supernatural, but it gave him a great deal of hope for his upcoming job. After all, that would be another opportunity to meet potential new friends.

Though he might need to really work on learning actual social cues if he wanted Annie to be around more. Obviously he couldn't be dependent on their empathetic abilities. And they certainly weren't worth giving up time with Annie herself.

"Charlie?" A note of clear worry—not extreme, but there—rang across their open bond before he even shook his attention back to the present and met Annie's concerned gaze again.

"Sorry, got a little distracted," he explained unnecessarily, his tone a bit sheepish.

Immediately an even clearer note of affection echoed his own feelings, followed abruptly by amusement and then playfulness. "That's OK. It's natural for you, after all."

"Oh hey!" he cried back, not really offended but more than willing to give into the childish urge to start—or at least _try_ to start—tickling his friend, who gracefully slipped out of his grasp and danced away, giggling all the while.

There really was no point to playing this game, and his ever-logical mind knew that any time he actually managed to catch Annie—if only for a second—only occurred when she chose to let it happen, but it still brought smiles to both their faces and soft laughter filled the air around them and the bond between them as they danced and dashed around the front yards for several minutes of meaningless fun.

A kind of fun that Charlie had never really known as a child. Oh, his mother had played these sorts of games with him occasionally, but one disproving glance from his revered big brother—who at five years his senior found such things to be silly—had quickly put an end to his willingness to admit any kind of interest in it. He'd still done plenty of things with his mom, of course, even somewhat 'girly' things like baking cookies. After all, Don hadn't been able to resist 'helping' with that either, not when it meant snacking on cookie dough and large numbers of cookies afterwards. And it put a big smile on their mom's face, which was always a good thing.

Still it was very late, and his parents—along with most of the neighborhood—were sleeping or trying to, so they soon forced themselves to settle back down again. Though both were still smiling, giggling and outright laughing for a while thereafter.

When he finally caught his breath Charlie asked softly, "Could you sense them?"

Annie blinked at him, but he was absolutely certain she was not remotely confused by his question. Their bond was so powerful now at close range and with no need for any subterfuge that he could sense everything she felt. "What?"

Charlie just raised an eyebrow at her and silently refused to elaborate. She already knew what he was talking about, and she proved it by sighing after a moment of silence.

"I could kind of sense them," the Slayer admitted, shaking her head. "But not like before. I was getting used to being able to read everybody without really needing to concentrate at all, but..."

"Now we can't sense much more than each other?" the mathematician finished, also sighing when she nodded. "I know what you mean. I'd gotten used to it too." He grinned slightly as he explained, "It's actually been really useful for keeping my parents from getting worried for or bothered by my zoning out when I'm focusing on the numbers. Whenever they started to get worried, I'd sense it and could usually stop what I was doing. But now I have to really pay attention to anyone else to notice their emotions."

"Except for me."

"Except for you," Charlie agreed with a nod, then quickly added as both felt the slight stirrings of irritation originating from their bond. "And Sineya, of course."

"Of course," Annie agreed, shaking her head slightly and then rolling her eyes as the spirit of the First Slayer gave a purr of approval before quieting again, apparently content to simple listen to their conversation with little or no input of her own as long as She wasn't being forgotten.

Charlie chuckled softly, before whispering, "It's things like that that remind me of how young She is." He winced at the same time as Annie did at the somberness associated with that thought.

"Yeah," Annie sighed. "'S not very encouraging, though. To think She was probably younger than me when She died."

Both winced again as they sense a small, surprisingly emotionless confirmation from The First Slayer.

After several moments of heavy silence Charlie spoke up again, not really moving away from the slightly depressing topic, but instead choosing to keep the discussion going and not fully dwell on it. "Do the Watchers know much about Her?"

The eldest living Slayer shook her head again, her long golden hair swaying back and forth with the motion. "No," then she shrugged. "I mean, they might have more that they just didn't put in The Field-Watchers Book, but—"

"That's actually what it's called?" Charlie asked in surprise. Considering what the book was supposed to contain, that title fit but it still seemed a bit odd. A bit too scientific for something that was so full of the mystical.

"No. The real name's in Latin." Annie said, her tone and the look she was sending him telling him not to press the issue.

Charlie bit back a laugh, though he knew full well she could sense his amusement. And it didn't help that Sineya—much more active with them sitting right next to each other near the time when the Slayer would generally start hunting—was apparently amused by Annie's adaptation.

But he also knew that Annie wasn't half as annoyed by his amusement as she looked. That was why she didn't work more at remembering such things. The trouble with names and anything not-English made the Slayer seem a little less-intimidating.

Not that Charlie had ever found her intimidating. The first time he'd 'met' her was when he woke up in the hospital, and by that time they already shared their empathetic bond. While he hadn't been aware of it—at all, really—at the time, even then he'd been absolutely certain of two things. One was that this woman would never harm him. And the second was that there was no safer place in the world than by her side (or a little ways behind her).

It was a feeling he'd found a little unsettling at first. As it was a level of trust that had surpassed the hero-worship level of trust he'd always had in his older brother, who was now so far away and rarely seen the last few years that the kinship they'd once shared really couldn't challenge Annie. And while he loved his parents, what safety he might have felt in their presence and in his childhood home _was_ tainted by the night three vampires had violated that sanctuary. And Annie had saved him from those three. Even when he hadn't fully remembered what had happened, he'd known that.

Suddenly a strange sensation—almost like someone was poking him with a finger, but poking his mind itself—jolted him out of his thought and he started, blinking rapidly for a moment before turning his eyes to Annie, who wore an expression of innocent amusement.

"No retreating into math-world when we're talking, remember?"

Charlie frowned, "I wasn't doing math," he protested half-heartedly.

"I know."

The genius blinked at that, but decided to let it go and continue on the course their conversation had been taking before his mind had wandered off on a somewhat random tangent. "So Sineya's in the Watchers' Book? Which is in your bag?"

"Yes. But it's mostly just comments about myths on how the Slayer might've come into being. They weren't actually sure her name was Sineya, but a demon that was supposedly driven out by Sineya kept calling a Slayer—in the 1500s—that, so they made note of it. _Yes_, I have the book. And _no_, you will not be seeing it yet."

"But—"

"We're both going to go up to bed now. And I will let you see the book tomorrow morning. After breakfast."

"But we're meeting with—"

"We're meeting everyone tomorrow afternoon. And some of the witches are going to make a copy of the book anyway. So you can't complain about any kind of time limit. Now come on," she rose to her feet suddenly, dragging him up as well with the firm grip of a deceptively small hand on his arm. "Time for bed."

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_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, October 5, 1996**_

Buffy couldn't suppress a smile as she woke to the familiar sound of cheery little song birds twittering about in the Eppes' backyard. After lying there in bed, listening to the happy songs, she slowly opened her eyes and lazily looked around the very familiar guestroom of the Eppes's house.

Even after weeks away this room still felt like home.

She'd noticed that someone—probably Mrs. Eppes, though Charlie had definitely added a few things here and there—had gone to a lot of trouble to keep it just like it was when she'd left.

The bed had been re-made with her favorite sheets and the room itself was freshly cleaned—the pleasant scent of a barely-there air-freshener only just over-powering the lemony smell of the cleaners that had been used—but all of the tiny decorations and knick knacks she'd compiled over her summer here and neglected to take back to Sunnydale with her were right where she left them, artfully arranged in their proper places after the room had been cleaned. Obviously Mrs. Eppes wanted to make sure she felt completely welcome, and the thought sent a warming sensation through her heart.

Her smile widened as her eyes landed on one particular decoration again. A photograph in a slender silver frame. It was the only thing on the bedside table aside from the lamp that was meant to be used for reading. She'd taken a copy of that picture with her and it now sat in a similar frame with the exact same placement in her room back on the Hellmouth.

It'd been taken a little over two weeks before she'd left LA. When she and Charlie had dragged Lily out of the city to one of the nearby parks for a small camping trip. The picture had been taken that first night, before lack-of-showers and sleeping in bags on the ground had done anything to their hair and smiles. Lily had taken the shot of Buffy and Charlie sitting on a large boulder that was actually the edge of a cliff overlooking the park, with the sun setting in the background.

In many ways that picture, of her hugging Charlie with both of them smiling as widely as they possibly could, had become a symbol of everything good about this past summer.

Buffy blinked as she noticed something else lying by the picture for the first time, then chuckled as she realized what it was. Someone had placed a small dish of candies on the table, and seeing what they were she knew it had to be Charlie.

After all, she hadn't mentioned liking _Smarties_ to anyone else, and Charlie had been rather amused by her joking observation that the name seemed to imply that eating the pure-sugar-goody was supposed to make you smarter.

Shaking her head, Buffy laid back further, her eyes closing as her head sank a little deeper into a soft pillow. She took a slow, deep breath, sighing in contentment as the still just-cleaned smell of the soft comforter on her bed drifted into her nose.

Her eyes still closed, she listened for several moments—wondering at just how early it might be—then chuckled as a single sound made it very obvious that it was too early to be up. Mr. Eppes hardly ever slept in, even on weekends, so if he was still snoring it must be very early. She tried to listen further, listen with her mind and after several long moments her mind was suddenly flooded with a sense of peace and restfulness that just as suddenly vanished in the wake of a jolt of annoyance.

Oops. Seems she woke Charlie up.

Raising her head slightly to glance at the clock that was on the other side of the room, Buffy winced. She really didn't want Charlie up—and researching—before six-thirty in the morning. So she closed her eyes again and tried to send back the feeling she'd felt a moment before—of peace and rest—and waited.

After several long moments she had the distinct impression that Charlie was grumbling as he rolled over and went back to sleep, one pillow thrown over his head. And several moments later that feeling of sleepiness started to return as Buffy slowly drew herself out of her friend's awareness, ignoring the amusement she felt from Sineya as she did so.

Once she was sure that Charlie was asleep again, Buffy tried to go back to sleep herself. But since they'd gone up to bed just before eleven last night—right after calling the _House­ _to make sure they weren't needed that night at all—she'd had more than enough sleep. Most nights three to four hours was enough for a Slayer. Five was more than enough, even when injured. Six was almost impossible to imagine, except when _badly_ injured. Which she wasn't.

So, with another sigh Buffy quickly swung herself out of bed and started moving around the room, quickly gathering a change of clothes from her bag and two of the towels Mrs. Eppes had laid out for her and snagging her bathroom kit off the dresser before heading towards the bathroom.

At home she might worry about waking her mother with an early morning shower, but here she'd learned that Mr. Eppes had gone out of his way to make the walls of this house virtually soundproof. To human ears, at least. The Slayer still heard plenty, but then she was used to that. So when their bedroom doors were shut the faint noise of the plumbing and running water wouldn't bother them at all.

After setting her clothes down on the counter, hanging her towels on a nearby wrack, and quickly hanging her bathroom kit from the bar the shower line hung from, Buffy looked at the shower knob for a long moment before shrugging and—after checking to make sure the shower liner was in place so no water would escape—she turned it on. It took almost no concentration to escape her pajamas, which she then folded up and set on the counter a little ways away from her change of clothes. Then she slipped into the shower, biting back a gasp as slightly too-cold water hit her skin and quickly reaching for the shower knob to turn it up even as she closer her eyes and let the water run down her face and through her hair. That was one of the problems with visiting somebody else's house: trying to figure out how things were set there. But she really should've remembered that the Eppes' shower was generally cooler than the one back home. But then again, she was usually half-asleep when she wanted warm water in the morning. And though she tried to avoid showers at night after patrols as much as possible here, because Margaret and Alan Eppes knew nothing about the supernatural, when she did need an after-patrol shower she _liked_ the cool water on semi-sore and potentially bruised muscles. Unless she had to wash some sort of grime out of her hair or skin—sewer sludge, demon goo, whatever—then she needed hot water and a _lot_ of soap.

Here she really had to work to find vampire nests or demons-in-need-of-Slaying. And the air wasn't polluted by their darkness. The dirty feeling that registered so poignantly to the Slayer's senses, polluting everything in Sunnydale but barely drifting on the air here. Here the influence of the Hellmouth wasn't powerful enough to constantly contaminate the air and the numbers of demons and vampires just weren't enough to build up over time, defiling everything.

Buffy sighed lightly as she opened her eyes, shaking her head a little to clear the water away from her eyes before turning towards her bathroom kit. As she did, she glanced towards the little shelves in the corner of the shower and blinked in surprise when she noticed that the shelf that had been hers when she was staying here full-time was fully stocked with all of the products she liked. Her favorite facial cleaner, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and shaving gel were all there. All were obviously brand new as some of them still had little pieces of the price labels that had been peeled off just enough to not show how much each had cost, but left enough behind that it was easy to see the bottles couldn't have endured the damp environment long.

The Slayer smiled softly as she reached out and snagged the face wash and quickly squirted some of it into her hands, then lathered it up on her face. Then she grabbed the bottle of shampoo, gently squirting just the right amount into the palm of one hand before clicking the top back into place, then rubbing her hands together before bringing both up to the top of her head to start scrubbing her scalp and running long fingers through her hair as she stepped back under the shower's spray. She made quick work of scrubbing her face free of soap, then went back to washing her hair. Her smile widened slightly as she took a deep breath and the familiar, pleasant fragrance of roses and some other herbs she couldn't quite place washed over her senses.

Of course, demon-goo hadn't really been a problem this past summer, even after she did started actively patrolling again. The demon and vampire populations here just didn't compare to the hordes of them around the Hellmouth. That was probably why the city felt so much _cleaner_, too. Most people would probably think her crazy for thinking that a major city like Los Angeles was cleaner and safer than a small town like Sunnydale, but it was. At least when it came to demonic activity.

Here Russell Winters—someone the Council classified as 'relatively harmless' because he only killed a few girls a year and spent the rest of his time living as an immortal but upstanding, tax-paying American citizen—was an awful monster, but he was among the worst. In Sunnydale, she'd probably agree with the Council. He wasn't that important. She'd still go through the trouble of dusting him though.

All too soon her hair was bubble-free, though her super-sensitive sense of smell could still detect the lingering traces of the pleasant fragrance as she leaned out of the shower's path to start applying her favorite conditioner. She rubbed light circles into her bangs and scalp for a moment before spending several more carefully pulling her fingers through her hair, making sure every strand was well covered before moving back under the water again. She kept the motions going as she stepped under the shower's spray again and let water wash through her hair at the same time. The tangles that her hair had slipped into as she slept quickly gave way to her tugging fingers, turning into smooth, silky strands under the influence of her fingers, the water and whatever it was the makers of conditioners put into their mixes to make them work.

Buffy shook her head as she deftly unzipped the pocket of her travel kit that held her sponge and pulled it out. As she reached for 'her' shelf again she smiled as she remembered Charlie's explanation for why this was 'her' shelf. It wasn't that the Eppes' had actually needed to move everything around, the rack had five shelves. But the bottom one was supposed to be for guests, the top four shelves were for family.

She put the bottle of her body wash back after squirting a generous amount on the sponge, held it under the water and then began to later up. The sponge left a tingling trail of softly scented, sparkling suds as she half-consciously dragged it around her body.

According to Charlie, Buffy—or 'Annie', as they still knew her—was family, so she shouldn't have to use the guest shelf. Part of Buffy thought her friend just wanted to get away with stealing his older brother's shelf, which was originally one prong higher on the rack than his own and the one he was currently using. But she still appreciated the sentiment. And she was also pretty sure that Charlie was fairly serious about it. Enough so that if his big brother came home while she was there, Charlie would move his stuff off Don's shelf. But he wouldn't have her move hers.

Buffy frowned and she felt her nose wrinkle up slightly in disappointment as her sponge ran out of bubbles, but she sighed and quickly made sure it was rinsed out, then finally wrung all the water out of it before setting it down on her shelf. Then she fished her razor out of her bag before reaching for the bottle of gel on the shelf.

Of course, the way coming to LA made her feel—the cleaner feeling of having so much human emotion there to overpower the little pockets for monsters instead of the other way around, like it was on the Hellmouth—made her wonder what coming to Sunnydale would feel like to Charlie. That was part of the reason she didn't want to let Charlie come by himself the first time at least. Especially since their empathetic senses seemed to really focus on just each other when they were close.

Even before Buffy had known about the Hellmouth being in Sunnydale, directly under the high school library, she'd known there was something off about it. When they first entered Sunnydale, with two moving vans trailing her mom's SUV—packed with their belongings and a bunch of stuff for her mom to start the gallery with—she'd felt it as they grew near. Especially when they'd driven by that awful 'welcome' sign that Spike—in an unusual show of taste for a vampire—had knocked down last year. It'd felt like they were jumping into quicksand that had been heavily doused with kerosene, and fully aware that somebody not too far away was plucking a match out of little book of them.

Buffy sighed as she carefully slid the razor up one leg, watching as it wiped away a trail of smooth white foam and barely-there-but-still-there stubble.

Hopefully Charlie wouldn't react quite as badly to Sunnydale as she had.

Of course, she'd been too self-centered—or at least too caught up in her angst-filled world—to really notice what her Slay-dar was telling her. She hadn't wanted to listen. Hadn't wanted to be the Slayer anymore. Supposedly because—but really in spite—of Merrick's sacrifice.

When they'd crossed into Sunnydale she'd shrugged the feeling of impending doom off as what any city-girl would feel when moving to a town so small that it only had one Starbucks. And she had really wanted to fit in with Cordelia's posse of popular followers without a real care in the world. Unfortunately, that wasn't something reality was going to allow.

But Charlie, she knew, wasn't like that at all. And he had next-to-no survival sense on his own. He'd definitely gotten better at that, of course. She hated that. Hated that he didn't really feel safe in his home—the house he'd grown up in—and probably never would again. Not after he'd already been disillusioned by a pathetic little trio of monsters that'd been walking around in the bodies of little girls that had died long before their times.

Having finished with one leg, she set her razor down and grabbed the bottle of gel once more, to apply to the other.

Still, no matter how disillusioned he may be, she wasn't about to let him wander around on the Hellmouth on his own. She'd only finally relented on his coming to town at Faith's insistence. And the younger Slayer was right. With _two_ Slayers—two of the champions that were supposed to stand alone as humanity's greatest defender—looking after him, how much trouble could he really get into?

Though, Buffy smirked slightly as she finished shaving her second leg, she certainly wouldn't make that comment out loud.

And according to everyone she'd asked, she was right; Charlie was still very naïve.

Charlie's mom and dad agreed that a severe drawback of Charlie's brilliance was that it'd made it very difficult for him to connect to his own age group when he almost never saw them. Which had left him more than a little socially awkward outside of pure academia because he didn't really know how to talk small talk or shrug off gossip. At least not before he met her, which was another thing it was easy to see his parents were supremely grateful to her for. For her drawing him out of the world of lonely numbers into the 'real' world. Though knowing the 'real' world included her own, Buffy had never really been comfortable with this gratitude.

And according to Lily and Gunn, though Charlie was very, very slowly making some progress while training with Gunn—apparently he was pretty good at falling, ducking and dodging now, but—he still had a long way to go. And Gunn agreed that it wouldn't be a good idea to let Charlie go anywhere with potential dangers without some kind of protection. As in members of the _Watch_ or one of the Slayers. Lily worried that a bad thing about the _House_ was that Charlie didn't really pay attention to the fact that there weren't people the _House_ turned away, but there were people they kept very close eyes on. That's why at least two watch groups always had the night off each night of the week. They were technically still watching, it was just in the _House_ itself. Charlie knew this, but he didn't get it.

Buffy sighed as she rinsed her razor off and stowed it way again after she'd finished shaving under her arms. Then she looked at her body sponge and shrugged as she grabbed it and the body wash again. Maybe she was spoiling herself as she swiftly lathered up again, but she didn't think there was anything was wrong with being super-clean her first day back in the city.

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_**Angels' House, Los Angeles, California – Saturday, October 5, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head in slight bewilderment, "I really don't understand how they could leave a blind spot this big. I mean, it's fairly simple math—"

"For you or me and everyone else?" Annie cut in and the genius looked up from his notes to see both she and Gunn were wearing almost identical expressions of confusions as they stared at the pages of math he'd laid out on the table around the blueprints.

"What?" Charlie glanced over the numbers again, then looked up at Annie, frowning. He pointed at the start, "It's just—"

"Hey, man, I dropped out of high school, remember?" Gunn interrupted quickly, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"And I'm still _in_ high school," Annie added, also a little defensively. "Remember just a month ago you were telling me I had to keep both sides of an equation equal for the algebra to work? I mean, I've gotten better. I'm actually doing pretty well in pre-Calc, but—" the Slayer shrugged.

"Well—" Charlie paused, then sighed and nodded. "Alright, but for a _mathematician_—such as the one the company that installed the cameras would have hired to determine proper placement—this _is_ fairly simple." He shook his head. "There's no way they could have missed this! I mean, even you've gotta see it!"

Seeing neither was following him, the mathematician grabbed a piece of paper and quickly drew a rough outline of the mansion onto it.

"OK, this is Russell Winters' mansion—"

"In 2-D," Annie nodded, grinning when he tried to glare at her.

"Yes, in a very simplified, two-dimensional model." He dropped the black pen and swiped a pencil in its place, then speedily sketched out the camera placements before shadowing the areas that would be in the cameras' line-of-sight. "OK, see these three corners of the mansion? All are completely covered by the security system. Directly to the north, northeast, east, southeast, south, southwest and west, there's no way the system can miss anything. They even placed an additional camera on the northeast corner to ensure that the blind-spot that didn't exist on the north-western corner didn't repeat there. You see? On the fourth corner—" he pointed to the offending corner, "the cameras don't cover anything. The two cameras that are supposed to monitor this corner, and more importantly that entryway," he waved his hand away from the sketch, shaking his head. "They just aren't there."

"Hey man, don' look a gift horse in mouth, right?" Gunn shrugged. "If his security has a hole, we can exploit it. This's a _good_ thing."

"But there's no way they could miss this! It's—"

"So it's deliberate," Annie cut him off, and both men looked at her.

Charlie blinked, then nodded slowly. "I-I guess. But...why?"

"Cops?" Gunn suggested after a long moment of thought. When both the genius and the Slayer looked at him, he nodded towards Charlie. "Your Ma said the law's gone after W&H, and probably a lot of their clients, right? If they got a court order couldn't they seize the videos?"

Annie nodded in understanding a second before Charlie did, "Even if they couldn't force it, the tapes could only give him a solid alibi if there wasn't anything that could be used against him on them. He needed a way to get people in and out without recording them."

"Probably to get the bodies out, too," Gunn suggested, and Annie nodded again but Charlie was frowning.

"Why doesn't he just use magic?"

Deborah laughed, making everyone turned towards the middle-aged witch as she shook her head and her shoulder-length dark hair seeming to float around her as she glanced up from her own perusal of Charlie's quick-sketch. "Magic isn't something _everyone_ can do, Charlie." She shrugged when he frowned at her. "The meditative exercises and mild magicks, as well as some of the smaller rituals, anyone can handle, of course. But the more powerful and complex spells are the territory of truly a select few."

"But _Wolfram and Hart_—"

"Could, undoubtedly provide the service," Richard—Deborah's brother—confirmed, but both Lincrofts were shaking their heads. "But that would cost significantly more money for Winters and his lawyers. They'd almost certainly have to keep a dark-mage on retainer full-time _and_ they'd have to find a new one every time their mage went off the deep end."

At the confused looks Charlie and Gunn shot the witch, Annie explained, "Dark magic isn't all that good for long life and saneness." She raised an eyebrow at the mages, "Not from what I've seen, anyway."

Deborah nodded, "No, it really isn't. I don't personally know the exact statistics," she shot Charlie a small grin, which quickly faded as she continued, "But the vast majority of human, dark-magic practitioners don't live to see their thirtieth birthday." She shrugged, "Either they burn themselves out by using too much magic or too many magic-enhancers or they cast too much and can't handle the after-shock. Or they fight other dark-users and kill each other off." She sighed sadly, shaking her head again as she continued. "No, though _Wolfram and Hart_ undoubtedly has more then a few demons and mages in their employ that could be used in such a way, it would be wasteful to an extent even they won't consider. An unnecessary misuse of limited resources that could exhaust said resources before they're really needed."

"Like finding someone who's in witness protection?" Charlie murmured softly, half to himself as the realization hit.

The witch nodded again, wincing slightly at the horrible—but probably very realistic—implication. "Yeah. For something like that."

"I know the Council has certainly suspected as much," The Council's team-leader—Mr. Collins—spoke up for the first time since they'd all gathered in Lily's office. Though he was the only Watcher that had come in, the rest of his team was waiting in the gym outside. A part of Charlie wandered if they were all just standing where they'd left them when Collins had agreed to meet in here, as they hadn't seemed to be moving at all when they walked in, but he quickly pushed that thought aside as Collins kept talking. "We know they have more than enough mages in their employ for such tasks, despite the risks and complications for the mages."

"If they have enough of them, they can spread out the castings amongst them so that the mages can recover in between," Deborah nodded in agreement at the thought. "That'd be why some of their mages might last a few years instead of just a few weeks in their employ. If they only have to cast big spells like that once a month or so for them, that gives them time to recover."

"That's what we'd theorized as well," Richard agreed and his sister nodded again.

A long moment of silence hovered over them, before it was broken by a faint buzzing sound and everyone looked at Collins, who was slipping his cell phone out of one of his—probably many—hidden pockets. "Pardon me," he nodded to them, specifically to Annie before he flipped his phone opened and answered, "Collins." He listened for a second then nodded, "Right, bring it in." He flipped his phone shut and slipped it back into the hidden pocket before meeting Annie's gaze once more. "Miss Summers, my 2IC's here with the rest of my men. They've just finished checking Winters' Mansion."

"For what?" Annie frowned slightly, though Charlie could sense she wasn't really confused at all.

Everyone glanced towards the door as it opened and another man—dressed all in black and a lot of just-barely concealed gear like Collins—entered even as the team leader replied, "Just making sure he hasn't made any important changes to his security features and whatnot." He quickly nodded to the newcomer, raising an eyebrow as he asked, "Well Robertson, has he?"

'Robertson' shook his head, "No, sir. Ma'am," he nodded to Annie respectfully, though he continued reporting to Collins. "Though a larger team from _Wolfram and Hart_ stopped by earlier this morning, they all left a short while afterwards."

"How do you know they were from _Wolfram and Hart_?" Lily asked curiously.

Robertson blinked at her, but didn't hesitate to reply: apparently recognizing her presence there meant she had the right to ask. "The lawyer, Lindsey MacDonald was there, Miss. And everyone in the group deferred to him."

After another moment of silence Collins nodded again, "Good work, Robertson."

Charlie sent a sharp glance towards Annie and bit back a smirk when he saw her shift a little, but was pleased when she immediately knew what he wanted and instead of looking at him she smiled slightly towards the younger Watcher. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Robertson, wasn't it?"

The twenty-something Englishman nodded, bowing his head slightly with his response. "Thank you, Ma'am." He didn't show any other outward sign of emotion, but both Charlie and Annie could easily sense that he was pleased by her attention. And really, Charlie figured, it couldn't hurt to stay on the good-side of the Council's 'special operatives', right?

"Will that be all, Ma'am?" Collins asked and Annie nodded again.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Collins. We'll meet back here at eight o'clock, alright?"

"Twenty-hundred hours, yes, Ma'am."

Then both Watchers left, closing the door behind them, and only a second later Annie released a sigh of relief.

Lily chuckled softly, "They seem helpful," she pointed out, shaking her head slightly. "I mean, we certainly couldn't find any of those plans."

Annie shrugged, "Yeah, I guess." She grimaced slightly.

"You just don't like being called 'Ma'am,'" Charlie chuckled when the Slayer shot him a glare.

"I'm seventeen years old, so no, I don't."

"It's a sign of respect, Annie." Lily objected, frowning slightly.

"I know," Annie sighed, shaking her head.

Gunn laughed at the defeated look on her face. "Can't say I blame you," he held his hand out as he moved a few steps closer, one eyebrow raised. "We weren't really introduced. I'm Charles Gunn. Friends just call me Gunn."

Annie smiled slightly as she accepted the older vampire hunter's hand and—judging by the immediate wave of slight discomfort that shot off of Gunn and made Charlie frown at the Slayer—squeezed it a little too hard as she shook hands. "I'm Buffy Summers. Known to the Council as The Slayer. Or maybe the older Slayer now. And I'm known around here as Anne O'Connor, or Annie to friends."

Gunn cocked his head to the side slightly as Annie released his hand, rubbing it slightly with his other hand—though he gave no other outward sign of discomfort—and he looked her up and down, a clearly considering look on his face. "Nice ta meet you then, Annie." Then he shook his head, "Though I gotta say," he nodded towards Charlie and Lily, "they warned me but—"

"You thought I'd be a bit butcher, I know."

"Well, yeah. Little taller too," Gunn shook his head, smirking slightly as Annie shot him an obvious mock-glare. "I mean, my little sister's three inches taller than you."

Annie sighed and shook her head, "I know," then she smiled brightly. "But it makes sneaking into places and surprising vamps _so_ much easier."

Gunn laughed, "I guess. Though I'd think you'd have ta cover y'ur hair if you wanted to sneak in anywhere."

Charlie frowned and scrutinized his friend's long, shiny golden locks for a moment before shaking his head as he spoke up. "Actually, she usually doesn't." When everyone looked at him, he raised an eyebrow at the Slayer. "Guess that's another power hidden in there?"

Annie was frowning slightly as she also considered it, but then nodded slightly. "Yeah. I've never had any trouble sneaking anywhere, really. You think...?"

Charlie shrugged when she frowned at him, "Well, we'll have to test it out later. Ma—"

"Guess so," Gunn cut in before Charlie could really get going, and smirked when everyone looked at him. "I don't know about you, but I'm starvin'. Anybody up for pizza?"

_0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5__ 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, October 5, 1996**_

Buffy glanced up from her nearly finished nails and chuckled slightly, shaking her head at her friend's almost-anxious expression. "You're acting like you've never snuck out before."

"I haven't," Charlie grimaced ruefully. "Tried to a few times, but someone always caught me."

"Mom or Dad?"

"Usually Don, actually."

Buffy bit her lip, pretty sure she shouldn't ask, but gave into temptation anyway, asking her question in an offhanded tone even as she kept her eyes on her nails. "What were you sneaking out for?"

"I wanted to see where Don was going."

At that she just had to laugh, "Oh, so your brother didn't really catch _you_ sneaking out. He just caught you following him when _he_ was sneaking out?"

"Yeah. My mom caught me a few times too, though. And Don did catch me once when he wasn't going anywhere. I'm still not sure how he knew I was going to try that night."

"Where—"

"There was a guest speaker at _CalSci_ that for some reason was only speaking late in the evening. Mom and Dad had some kind of business conference, so Don was supposed to babysit me. He mostly ignored me for several hours after he invited his friends over. But then he caught me when I was about two blocks away from the house." Charlie shook his head, "And he really seemed to be pretty focused on the horror flick they'd started, too."

This time Buffy managed to suppress her laughter, though it wasn't easy with the image of little-Charlie all dressed in black trying to climb out his bedroom window quite clear in her mind.

Obviously a little too clear, she realized, offering the sweetest, most innocent smile she could muster in response to the sour look he was sending her.

"You know, I'm still not sure why we're sneaking out," Buffy commented after a seconds of ignoring his unhappy expression.

Charlie rolled his chocolate-colored eyes, "My parents—"

"It's Saturday, Charlie. We don't have a curfew."

"Yeah, but you know that at least one of them would wait up for us with a whole bunch of questions if they knew. We can't say we're doing something with the _House_ because both Mom and Dad are free and might want to come too." When she opened her mouth to comment, he hurried on. "And you're _not_ going without me."

Now Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you've made that clear, don't worry," she reassured him, even as her attention returned to finishing the last application of the shiny, clear nail-polish her nails had so desperately needed.

Charlie watched her for several seconds—and a part of Buffy wondered if she'd ever looked more 'valley girl' to her genius-friend—before he asked, "Shouldn't we be going?"

The blonde didn't even glance at the nearby clock. "It barely takes half an hour to get there, Charlie. And Lily's giving us a ride so that we don't need to worry about a taxi and whatnot."

"Well, it'd be better to be earl—"

"And your Mom's still awake."

"What?" Charlie frowned, glancing in the direction of his parents bedroom. "She went to bed hours ago."

This time Buffy did glance up at him, one golden eyebrow raised even as she expertly twisted her nail-polish bottle closed, carefully avoiding smudging the still-wet polish. "I really hope it's not a mystery to you," she commented, then raised one hand to start blowing on the drying nails.

"What?"

Buffy really tried to suppress the slight smirk that wanted to come out, but it wouldn't be contained as she replied, "Why you never managed to sneak out."

"How do you know she's still awake?"

The Slayer shrugged slightly while dropping one hand carefully down before raising the other to start blowing on those nails. "Your mom hums a lot when she's reading."

Charlie blinked, glancing towards his parents bedroom again—clearly incredulous—before looking back at the Slayer. "She does?"

"Uh-hmm," she nodded.

"And you can hear her still? Even through Dad's walls?"

"Yup."

Charlie stared at her for a second, then shook his head when she switched hands again. "Does that actually make them dry faster?"

"Don't know," Buffy admitted, shrugging again as she switched hands. "Probably not. But it's something to do till they set. And the smell doesn't bother me as much if I keep blowing it away."

"Oh."

Buffy paused abruptly and held a manicured finger up to silence Charlie as Mrs. Eppes gave a slightly deeper sigh than normal, just before setting something lightweight—her book—down and turning off her lamp with a distinctive 'click.' "Finally," the teen muttered, even as she kept listening and heard Mrs. Eppes shift around slightly making the couple's bed creak while she tried to get comfortable.

"What?"

Buffy started slightly as Charlie's much closer—and therefore louder—question broke her concentration, but shook off her surprise and smiled at her friend. "Your mom just turned her light off."

"So we can go?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Soon as she's asleep, yeah."

"But you just said—"

"Charlie. Do you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow?"

"No?"

"No. We'll go in 'bout a half hour," she told him, then raised an eyebrow again. "Which means we should change," the Slayer pointed out, waving a hopefully dry-manicured hand at their PJs.

Charlie glanced at their ensemble, a soft smile crossing his face as he was reminded of her too-cute, kitten-covered pajamas again, but then shook his head. "Annie?"

Satisfied her nails were, in fact, dry, the Slayer looked up again, frowning at the clear note of concern she could distinctly feel along their bond and hear in her friend's voice, "Yeah, Charlie?"

She watched as Charlie bit his lip for a second, then forced himself to continue. After a moment, he seemed to collect himself and continued. "I j-just wanted to point something out."

"Yeah?" she cocked her head to the side, letting one eyebrow raise even as she tried to project warmth and calmness along their bond.

"There's, uh," Charlie took a deep breath, then forced himself to continue. "There's a bunch of studies that indicate that the act of observing something—especially something that can certainly think for itself—will change the actions of the subject under observation. It-it's called the _observer effect_*, or the _Hawthorne effect_*. In physics, it's related to the _Uncertainty Principle_*." (1, 2 & 3)

"Yeah?" Buffy repeated her earlier reply, keeping her voice gentle and completely neutral as she let him continue, even though she had a pretty good idea of what he was getting at.

"And it's not just the tools used for measurements, by necessity, effecting the state of what they're measuring in a lab." The genius shook his head, "I mean, psychologically: people change their behavior when—" (4)

"They know their being watched," Buffy finished with a nod. She didn't need a college degree to recognize that simple fact.

"Um, yeah. That's known as the _Hawthorne effect_. It's a form of reactivity that Dr. Henry Landsberger coined established in 1955, when he was studying the experiments done at Hawthorne Works, where researchers were trying to see if workers were more productive in higher or lower levels of light." Charlie shook his head again, hurrying on as he noticed Buffy was struggling to fight boredom for his sake. "The problem was that the workers were aware of the observers, and therefore—"

"They worked harder all the time, no matter what the lighting was," Buffy nodded again.

"Right," the logician nodded again. "That's why the term's used to identify any type of short-lived increase in productivity when under observation. But the point is: the act of observation will affect the observed. So when you watch something, you change it, and, uh—" Charlie shook his head, forcing himself to pause and take a deep breath before he finished, though his concerned gaze remained locked with Buffy's compassionate one. "Winters has to know you—or at least someone—may be coming. His security—"

"Charlie," Buffy cut him off gently, reaching out to catch one of his hands and waiting till his gaze came back to hers before she continued. "Don't worry, we know that. We know it might be a trap, but with all the back-up I've got for this it really doesn't matter. Trust me. No matter what Winters has got, what we've got is a lot of overkill. And we're still gonna be really careful." She smiled softly, "But it's not like I can _not_ go after him just because he knows someone might. Besides, with all the security he already has in place—security that we've already figured out how to get around or overwhelm—I doubt he's given anything the _House_ might do for Denise a second thought."

Charlie nodded slightly, sighing as he replied. "I hope so."

Buffy pushed him away gently, nodding towards her nearby clock. "Now go change, or we will be late."

_0 0 0 3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Vehicle near Winters' Mansion, Los Angeles*, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_ (6)

Charlie glanced at the clock as he watched everyone in the large van the Council had brought in for them finish getting ready for the attack. Half-past midnight and it looked like they were all ready to go. Looking at Annie, he had to smile slightly as he took in her attire. The nearby Council's team-leader had been quite insistent that she take as much of the tactical gear they'd brought for her as possible, just in case, and the sight of all the equipment on her darkly-clad form was surprisingly reassuring. Still, he couldn't help but be at least a little nervous. "A—Buffy?"

Annie spun around, a glimmer of surprise in her eyes—and, again, flying over their bond due to their close proximity—at his use of her first name before she remembered the Council operative's presence and gave a barely perceptive nod of approval. "Yeah, Doc?"

Charlie blinked at her equally unfamiliar use of _Angels' House_'s nickname for him, but also continued quickly to avoid attention. "B-Be careful."

A bright smile split the Slayer's serious countenance, making her look like a teenager again, "Always am." Then the smile disappeared as she raised an eyebrow at Rye and Devon, cocking her head slightly to include the Council operatives that were also staying behind—one of them just to guard the van—in her sight. "Anything happens to him—I don't care if you do something, if a vamp gets by you or if you let him do something stupid like follow me—"

"A—Buffy, I won—"

"_Anything_ happens to him, you're gonna regret it. Got me?"

Both of the Angelinos nodded immediately, their faces respectfully serious and Devon replied verbally, if briefly, with a "Yes ma'am," which all of the Council operatives echoed.

Annie nodded while her eyes went back to meet Charlie's, softening for but a moment as she ordered, "_Stay here._" Then she looked at Collins and jerked her head towards the van's exit. "Let's go."

Collins nodded, his pale eyes serious, and a moment later both were gone.

Charlie's eyes immediately went to the monitor that was tracking their movements through the Lincroft siblings carefully crafted spell. He didn't really know how much time passed, as he watched different colored dots move around on the screen, staring specifically at the little white dot—the only one that was that color—that he knew was Annie. It took him a while to realize someone was watching him, in turn, but when he finally did he glanced around and was surprised to find the nearby Council guard's surprisingly concerned gaze focused on him. "May I help you?"

The older man smiled slightly and shook his head, "She'll be fine, Doctor." He continued before Charlie could say anything in response, "I've worked with a few Slayers over the years, and trust me; as intimidating as Winters' security may appear to us, everything we've got here—" he nodded to indicate the special monitors and the men that were keeping track of all the Council operatives and the Watch members, "—_plus_ The Slayer, is quite excessive."

"But the setup—"

"Does indeed look like it could be a trap," the light haired man nodded. Then shrugged, "Maybe it is. That's why she's not going in alone."

Charlie nodded slowly in understanding, then really looked at the older man. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was looking for, but something to explain his dislike of the organization he represented would be good.

The problem was, he didn't see anything. From what he _had_ seen of the Council's team all of the operatives were extremely disciplined, well-trained and polite young men who all certainly respected the Slayer, at the very least, and many of whom seemed to respect everyone involved with the _House_ and _Watch_, too.

If Annie had a team like this backing her up all the time, would he have any reason to resent the Council at all? Especially considering, according to their special book—which he'd spent hours reading earlier today—the Watchers Council hadn't even had anything to do with the Slayer's creation. As most of the mages he'd met had mentioned, the Watchers might have ties to the infamous Shadow Men of ancient times, but if those ties were there the Watchers themselves didn't seem to know about them. And the Shadow Men had been even less supportive to the Slayer than the Watchers generally were. All the Shadow Men had done was give the Slayer—give Sineya—her powers and then abandon her to her Calling.

Perhaps his dislike of them was directly from Sineya, resentment at being abandoned by the Shadow Men so long ago. But he knew that resentment was felt at least in some small degree by Annie herself, regardless of Sineya's generally minute influence.

"Can I help you with something, doctor?"

Charlie jumped slightly, then shook his head a little sheepishly as he met the older man's eyes, realizing he'd probably been staring right at him. "Sorry." He bit his lip for a moment, glancing towards the screens that boasted numerous blinking lights and the supremely calm men that were watching them and listening into the radios the Council's team had brought for all of them to communicate with. He nodded slightly in return when Mr. Lincroft—Deborah's older brother—glanced up and nodded to him before turning back to the monitors. Deborah herself was in some kind of deep trance, keeping their spells going, to notice him. Finally he looked back at the Council operative and nodded, "I'm sorry, I don't think we were introduced?"

The Englishman nodded in return, "Peter Caldwell."

"Charles Eppes." Charlie blinked, "No title?"

"No," Caldwell shook his head. "No need for them. When we work with government agencies or military operations, we're generally consultants, sometimes just 'specialists' of an unnamed organization. But the Council itself has no need to give us titles. They know who we are and what we do."

Charlie nodded slowly in understanding, then continued a bit hopefully. "And what do you do?" At the look the older man sent him, he shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I've been trying to help Bu—umm, Miss Summers, with—" he waved his hands towards the nearby vampire's mansion, "All of this since I found out about it. I've spent a lot of time with her and it just doesn't seem like the Watchers Council does all that much to help her."

Caldwell actually sighed at that, nodding slightly in evident agreement. "No, I'm afraid we don't help the Slayer as much as we might like to."

"...Why?"

_0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5__ 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Winters' Mansion, **__**Los Angeles**__**, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Buffy couldn't help but grin as she caught the edge of the balcony with one hand and easily pulled herself up while all of the men around her had to depend on the grappling hooks they'd brought with them to climb up the ropes to the third story. While a two story jump wasn't necessarily easy for her most of the time, after sitting around all day just waiting for this operation, she had more then enough energy to manage it. She glanced down at the Council operatives that were a little more than halfway up and considered just grabbing the hooks and pulling them the rest of the way but figured that might be a little dangerous. The last thing they needed was for one of the men to panic, let go and breaking something on landing.

Charlie's analysis of Winters' security had definitely helped in getting them into the mansion. According to Collins they'd already noticed that this corner of the mansion was poorly covered—apparently breaking into buildings with advanced security systems wasn't something new to them—but they hadn't really realized just how poorly covered it was until Charlie pointed it out. Hadn't realized that they didn't even have to go in through the guarded doorway that the cameras didn't cover: they could just come up along the other side of the building and go in through the upper levels.

Of course, they'd still knocked the guards out. No reason to leave them standing around and available to come storming in to help Winters if he got the chance to call for help.

Buffy herself really didn't like the fact that a vampire had a bunch of heavily-armed humans guarding it. And she wasn't all that comfortable with watching the Council's guys knock them out. She was pretty sure both of the two guards were still breathing afterwards, but she wasn't entirely sure about one and Collins had made her move on before she could try to check.

She wasn't all that surprised when Collins' was the first of the men to make his way over the railing. The others weren't far behind him, and they were all close enough in age that it wasn't like that could be counted against any of them. And Collins' himself had to be in pretty good shape to deserve leading this team, which according to Giles he did.

She reached for the balcony door's knob to force it open, but stopped when Collins deliberately stepped in between her and the door, shaking his head. When she frowned at him, he pointed towards the corner of the door and then tapped his ear. Still frowning, she looked at the door again and tried to listen, then bit back a gasp while wincing as her sensitive ears obediently focused on a very quiet, but high-pitched noise coming from the other side of the door. Realizing it must be something related to the security system, she nodded and stepped aside as another member of the team moved forward with what looked like a really big remote in his hands.

The redhead—not that she could see his hair now, it was hidden under his snug black hat, but that was the only unique feature she could remember about him was his hair and lots of freckles—pointed down towards the bottom of the door and pushed a few buttons. A little red light came on near the top of the remote, and the redhead hit a few more buttons. A moment later the red light blinked rapidly for several seconds and then went off, and Buffy sighed slightly in relief as the offensive noise vanished with it. The redhead raised the remote a little and hit a few more buttons, but no more red lights came on. When the redhead nodded to Collins, everyone looked at Buffy again and she nodded in agreement. (5)

Collins nodded to the door and Buffy moved forward again and easily turned the doorknob, breaking through the lock that was supposed to keep it shut like it wasn't even there. Pulling the door open she moved in, pushing aside the dark drapes that were probably installed for the comfort of the mansion's owner: allowing him to move through his massive home during the day without having to worry about sunlight coming in through the windows.

The Watchers followed her in, splitting up as they did so with a few going off to the right—the redhead with the remote among them—and a few more going off to the left, another remote with them. Collins and a few others stayed with her, but she frowned slightly when she noticed they had fewer men with them then when they'd started.

When she raised an eyebrow at Collins, he pointed outside and down slightly—towards the formerly guarded doorway where Gunn and a bunch of his guys were supposed to be coming in if needed—and realizing he'd left a few of his men downstairs to help them, she nodded in understanding. Then she closed her eyes and reached out with her Slay-dar.

It only took her a moment to find Winters, but she focused a little more on his presence when she sensed someone else was with him. Someone who wasn't a demon. Reaching out with her empathetic senses instead, she winced as she realized his frightened guest probably wasn't supposed to live through the night. Apparently he wasn't quite as focused on Denise as everyone thought.

"Miss Summers?" Collins asked after a long moment of silence, his voice probably inaudible to everyone but her.

"He's on the second floor," Buffy whispered back, a bit louder as he didn't have super-hearing. "In his office, I think. But he has company."

"Extra guards?"

"No, a guest. She's scared." The Slayer replied, then bit back a wince when she opened her eyes and noticed all of the team members gathered around her were watching her closely. After all, a Slayer wasn't supposed to be able to sense human beings...were they?

But maybe they were, because Collins nodded after less then a second of silence, and she could sense the clear respect she'd been sensing from the calm man all evening increase as he did so.

"OK." He nodded to one of the other Watchers, who immediately started doing something to their radios that made weird clicking noises across the comms.

After a moment, she realized the series of long and short clicks was probably some kind of code. Maybe Morse code?

Then Collins nodded in the direction redhead's group had gone and Buffy nodded, moving off after him.

She didn't particularly like letting the Watchers go first, as endangering any human being was against the Slayer's very nature, but she didn't particularly want to try and stake Winters while he was surrounded by a bunch of human thugs with guns, either.

_0 0 0 3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Vehicle near Winters' Mansion, Los Angeles*, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Charlie nodded in understanding. He wasn't too unhappy about being understanding, but he was a math prodigy, so he couldn't not understand the numbers. "But why doesn't the Slayer receive more support? I mean, even Dr. Giles isn't really supposed to help her at all, right?"

"Not in the field, no," Caldwell nodded in confirmation, shooting yet another glance towards the monitors, then back towards the vans closed doors before turning his attention back to Charlie. "But, generally speaking, there really is no reason the Slayer shouldn't work alone."

"But—"

"It's much more dangerous for us, for any ordinary humans, to try and go up against a demons and vampires." Caldwell cut in, shaking his head. "And realistically we really are needed elsewhere. It's the Slayer's job to cover the Hellmouth and any prophesized Apocalypse we might not be able to handle. We handle everything else, as frequently as possible. But the Council's resources generally only stretch so far. That's why we're more often involved as consultants or specialists for military operations and government agencies."

"Like the NSA?"

"Rarely," the 'specialist' shook his head again. "We actually don't interact with most of the Colonies' agencies. But yes, when we do need to step in to handle a problem in one of your states, it's always through the NSA."

"Why don't—"

"Most people aren't willing to accept the supernatural is real, doctor. And it's not just a phenomena you see around the Hellmouth, it's everywhere. That makes covering it up very, very easy for the most part. So only a few people in your government really know about it, and most of them only through the military or the CIA."

Charlie frowned a little, the military he'd obviously expected but, "The CIA?"

Caldwell shrugged, "Spies are a bit harder to confuse about these things, and if you travel enough it's something you're bound to see. So it's something anyone they send into the field is deliberately prepared for."

"And the military?"

"Special Ops, yeah. All of it about as classified as it can get, obviously."

Charlie nodded as he thought about that for several seconds, while Caldwell made his habitual glanced towards the monitors and doors, then he shook his head. "But they're so young." He didn't need to elaborate for the Watcher to comprehend that, as he immediately sighed.

"Yeah, they are." Caldwell shook his head, and Charlie sensed a note of distinct remorse and/or sadness at that. For some reason, it was very easy to read people standing in between him and wherever Annie was, as Caldwell was now. "And they don't last long. But that's the way it's always been, doctor. The Slayer's always been young. Always been needed. And always died young, and hard. It's not something we can change."

Charlie's frown deepened at the older man's somewhat-defeated words, and even further as he sensed a distinct note of guilt come off the man at the same time. "Why not?"

Caldwell shrugged, "It's not like we can change the Calling, doctor. The Council knows for a fact that The Slayer has to be Called while she's in puberty. Supposedly as that's when her body can handle the changes." He continued before Charlie could question him further, smiling slightly as he tried to change the subject. "Still, Summers' seems to be doing a pretty good job."

The genius shook his head. "She was killed two years ago."

"Yeah, heard about that," Caldwell shook his head. "Puts CPR into a whole new light, huh?"

"I guess... But Kendra didn't even last a full year."

"No. Most don't." Caldwell frowned, stopping suddenly to move towards the monitors. "Report," he ordered, and the Watcher that was monitoring the comms finished writing down a series of dots and dashes before replying.

"Looks like it's got a vic with him now."

Charlie's eyes widened as he thought of Denise, but then shook his head as he remembered she was still safely hidden and disguised in Lily's heavily warded house: where they'd left her as Lily drove them in this evening. Apparently Winters wasn't quite as focused on her as they'd thought, then. Which meant that the Council's belief that he only killed a few girls a year was probably inaccurate.

"Dead?"

"Not yet."

Caldwell sighed, at that, glancing at the monitor, where Charlie could see a bunch of little lights—including Annie's white one—moving around the screen as the people they represented moved through the mansion. "In its office?"

"That's where Ms. Summers says it is."

Charlie blinked as he noticed just how consistently the Watchers refused to assign the vampire a gender. Despite knowing its physical form was undoubtedly male. A reminder of the fact that it wasn't human, he guessed. But he had to wonder how that came into play when they were dealing with demons. Of course, maybe knowing a monster's gender generally didn't matter all that much. He shook his head as he saw Caldwell moving back towards him, and frowned in askance.

"They're fine," Caldwell reassured him, though he didn't say anything about the vampire's 'guest' and probable victim-to-be if the team didn't move fast enough. Leaning back against the wall in the vantage point he'd chosen earlier, the specialist glanced towards the van's rear doors again, then looked back at Charlie. "So you've been keeping track of Miss Summers? Helping her?"

"Um, yeah. As much as I can."

"How'd you meet?"

Charlie blinked, then hesitantly reached up towards his collar, pulling it down to show the strange scar that he knew was hidden there and that the Watcher would certainly recognize. "She saved me. Earlier this summer, some vampires attacked me. They looked like little girls, but," he shook his head ruefully, letting go of his collar to let it pop back up again even as he pushed down the horror that he still felt in response to that memory. The reason he was still uncomfortable with answer the door after dark. "I was lucky, I guess. She was walking by and I guess she sensed them."

"And you remembered afterwards? Didn't make yourself forget?"

Charlie could sense a clear amount of rising respect from the older man—he thought Caldwell was probably a year or two older than Don—and from his associates watching the monitors and the comms. He pushed back a sheepish look even as he shook his head. "Not right away. I passed out from blood loss, and shock, I guess. Woke up in the hospital," as Annie didn't want the Council to know how close they were, he carefully avoided mention her involvement therein. "I tried to forget but," he shook his head again. "It just didn't make sense to me. Any of it. I knew she was the one who'd found me, I was still conscious when she'd shown up so I kind of recognized her. Thought she was an angel when I was passing out, but," he shrugged sheepishly even as everyone in the van nodded in understanding. He glanced towards the monitors and wasn't surprised when all of the people that were _supposed_ to be watching them immediately turned away. "She kept checking up on me, so finally I talked her into telling me what really happened."

Caldwell nodded slowly, "That was brave of you, doctor. Very brave."

Charlie frowned slightly, but nodded slowly. "I guess..."

"No, really. It was." Caldwell shook his head again. "I'm from a Watcher family, most of us are. We all grew up knowing about all of this." Then he shrugged. "Used to be a time when more people were able to accept the supernatural. But the more science-orientated the world's become, the more prone to forgetting even the survivors of vampire and demon attacks have become."

"I saved my fiancé from a vampire the night I met her a few years ago," one of the other specialist spoke up, though his eyes were still locked on the monitors. "She doesn't remember most of it. Took weeks for my family to convince her that vampires and demons were real after I'd proposed."

The Watcher listening to the comms nodded in agreement.

"That's the way it is for most people, doctor. Most people just can't accept it. They black it out, avoid thinking about it, rationalize it away, whatever. " Caldwell shook his head again. "So for you: a scientist, to accept it, is rather astounding."

Charlie couldn't help but wonder: if Annie hadn't hung around or if it weren't for the possible subconscious influence of the empathetic bond born from the blood transfer, would his curiosity have still managed to overcome the desire to _not_ know? "Thanks, I guess," he replied quietly, then sighed.

"If it helps at all, doctor," Caldwell told him quietly. "As long as she survives past her eighteenth, she should be fine for a good while yet."

Charlie frowned, "Her eighteenth birthday?"

"Sir," the betrothed-Watcher spoke up, drawing their attention to him. "They're moving in."

_0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6__ 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Winters' Mansion, **__**Los Angeles**__**, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Buffy shot the body on the floor—a redhead that looked younger than her—a sad glance, but quickly turned her full attention to the surprised vamp that had finished draining her only moments before she'd broken down his door. She shook her head when he glanced towards the destroyed doors and then slammed his hand down on a button on his desk. "They won't be able to help you."

The vamp glared at her, its creepy yellow eyes narrowed in anger even as he pulled a handkerchief out of a coat pocket to wipe the blood off his face with as he shifted it back with a little bit more difficulty than most master vamps would have. But then again, he wasn't a master vamp like Spike or Angelus. He'd only been a vamp for a few decades according to the Council's report and from the obvious look of confusion on his face as he looked her over and then glanced at the door again, his Sire hadn't told him about The Slayer.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

The vampire—who really looked a bit old for any vamp to want to turn, but maybe the younger-looking ones that she was used to seeing were just drawn all the way to the Hellmouth more than the ones that were turned into vamps later in their lives—cocked his head to the side and frowned at her. "I don't believe we've met."

"Oh we haven't," Buffy confirmed as she stalked slowly towards him. "You'd have been dust a long time ago if we had."

"Some kind of hit-woman, are you?"

Buffy blinked, then shrugged, "Something like that."

Winters shook his head. "You really don't want my name on your list. I'm one of _Wolfram and Hart_'s most valuable cli—" he stopped, his eyes dropping to stare down in shock at the stake she'd just thrown at him, directly through his heart.

"Given what I've heard about their clients, that's really not a great defense," Buffy offered, shaking her head as his form collapsed into a pile of dust halfway through her reply. She turned towards the door just in time see Collins come through, two others behind him. "He's dust. But he called for security."

"We've got them," Collins told her, then glanced at the body on the floor. "And her?"

"She's dead."

"Will she rise again?"

Buffy looked at the still-warm corpse, then shook her head, sighing sadly as she replied. "No. She's just dead."

Collins nodded, then glanced towards the door as another member of his team came through. "Caulfield?"

"Security's tied up outside. The army's sending a team to take 'em in."

Collins nodded in approval, "And?"

"We found the lab in the basement. And it's a bit bigger than expected—covers more than half of the mansion's underground—but shouldn't be a problem."

"Lab?" Buffy frowned at them. "Like a meth lab?"

"One of the things _Wolfram and Hart_ has defended Winters in court for is the sale and production of methamphetamine," Collins told her. "They never had enough to put him away, I assume because the lab itself was hidden magically?" he finished, glancing at Caulfield, who nodded.

"Yah, it took our sensors a while to find it, even with the enhancements," Caulfield replied, holding his remote up slightly, and Buffy realized he was one of the Watchers that had headed in the other direction when they'd split up.

The Slayer shook her head, "Why would a vampire make meth?"

Collins shot her a rueful smile, and Buffy was surprised to sense a bit of fondness coming off him as he replied, "Same reason any human would, Miss Summers. Money." Then he shook his head, "Fortunately, it does make clean up easier."

"Clean up?"

_0 0 0 3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0_

_**Vehicle near Winters' Mansion, Los Angeles*, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Charlie smiled as the van's rear doors finally opened and he was moving towards them even before Annie stepped in, as he'd already sensed her approaching and watched her little white dot on the monitors for several minutes now.

She returned his hug with a smile, but gently pushed him away almost immediately, silently reminding him of all the Council operatives who weren't the slightest bit disturbed by the show of affectionate concern.

Collins was shaking his head slightly, but smiling as reached into one of the van's closed compartments and then withdrew a box, which he threw to Annie. "Miss Summers, here."

Annie easily caught the thrown object, and smiled brightly, nodding her thanks when it turned out to be a full box of granola bars. "Thanks," she offered even as she tore it open and pulled one out, quickly unwrapping it to start munching.

Collins nodded then waved towards the empty seats around the van. "Time to go, everyone."

"I thought you said we had to do some kind of clean up?" Annie frowned at him, even as she kept munching away on her snack, opening a second bar after she stuffed the empty wrapper of the first back in the box.

"The other van's taking care of that, and they'll leave as soon as they've handed the security team over." Collins replied, then nodded more firmly towards the seats.

Annie was still frowning slightly, apparently unhappy with the idea, but moved towards the seat next to Charlie anyway, easily clicking her seat belt into place while Caldwell closed the rear door and the van started to drive away, every seat in the now tightly packed vehicle full. Except most of the Watchers specialists were missing and all of the crew Gunn had brought with them were packed in here, meaning most of the Watchers were probably in the other van.

Charlie glanced at Annie repeatedly, frowning slightly even as she kept frowning at Collins. But the van stopped again, after several tense minutes of silence, before either of them could think of anything to say.

"Here, sir?" The driver asked Collins, who'd taken the passengers seat up front.

Collins nodded, looking out the window. "Yeah. Van #2's pulling away now. Everything should be set."

"For what?" Annie finally spoke up, shaking her head and glaring as Collins ignored her.

Before she could made any further demands, though, a loud noise tore through the air outside, and Charlie was only a few steps behind her after both unlocked their seat belts and hurried out the back.

Charlie slipped out hurriedly behind her before Caldwell could rise from where Buffy had pushed him aside, and he knew Gunn was right behind him. Any thought of the van though was pushed from his mind as he looked down the road they'd been driving on, his eyes widening.

Normally the sky would be dark at this time of night, or at least as dark as any area close to the metropolitan cityscape could ever get. Where Winters mansion was supposed to be, the ground was glowing a bright orange color as fire ate away at the large house's ruined remains. Smoke rose from the debris of a massive explosion, mixing with the city's already polluted air to make the stars even more difficult to see. While the flames they rose from made the nearby horizon glow with a flickering, false dawn.

"Miss Summers, gentlemen," Collins' firm voice broke into Charlie's thoughts and he turned to meet the older man's serious gaze. "Get in the van, please. We need to go."

Charlie nodded, a little dazedly, and turned to follow Gunn back into the van, but stopped when he noticed Annie wasn't following. He turned back to frown as her, hesitantly reaching out to pull her along but was stopped when Collins' caught his reaching wrist in a gentle but firm grip.

Collins shook his head and nodded towards the van again, gently pushing him towards it before turning to Annie. "Miss Summers, the job's done." He glanced down the road again as a van identical to theirs stopped a little ways down the road. "It's time to go."

Charlie couldn't see Annie's face as it was still turned towards the flames, but he knew she was staring at the ruined mansion. He could feel her horror—though he didn't fully understand it—even as she shook it off and nodded slowly before turning. Charlie moved into the van and back to his seat, slipping his seatbelt on and gently helped his shocked friend with hers even as he continued to watch her warily.

It took him almost the whole ride back to the _House_ to figure out what she was so upset about. The Slayer was supposed to protect human beings, even bad ones. And _Wolfram and Hart_ had sent heavily-armed men to guard their vampiric client.

Supposedly the security team was going to be 'handed over' to someone, but even if none of them had been seriously harmed or killed: what about Winters' neighbors? They'd heard the sirens of countless emergency vehicles passing by on their way home, undoubtedly to investigate the explosion, but what if the fire spread?

There were so many 'what if's' that could be bothering Annie, really. But he knew it was the explosion and the resulting fire that had really upset her. When he'd felt her horror not too-long before, he'd almost seen the flames through her eyes.

Who knows, it could be some lingering guilt at sending Angel to Hell. Or memories of their own experience in a Hell dimension. Or a combination of everything he'd yet managed to think of and more.

He hesitated only a moment before reaching for her hand and gently taking it in his own, hoping the slight physical contact would be enough to drive the flames from her mind.

At least for a little while.

**

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**

End of

_**Chapter 7: Mortal Peril – Part II.**_**

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**

AN: OK, I didn't really want to end it here. I had a great cliff-hanger set up, but this chapter was getting a bit long, and the part I wanted to end with was still several scenes away, so _**Mortal Peril**_** might end up being a four-parter.**

**Anyway, I hope the chapter was worth the wait. Which is, of course, the other reason I ended here. It's been a bit longer since I last updated then I like. Sorry about that. :-(**

**My muses haven't been behaving lately. On the plus side, I haven't, per say, hit a writers block on this fic. No, I've written plenty. The only problem is my muses seem to be much more interested in the later parts of the fic than this one. Which I don't really understand, I really like this part of the outline, but my muses don't want to write about it. Thankfully I ended up with the day off, so I could spend almost all day forcing myself to finish this. I hope it didn't come off as too forced though.**

**And, on the plus side, once we get near the end of the fic—still several chapters away—my updates should be much faster, since I've written so many of the scenes in those chapters.**

**Some notes from within the chapter:**

**(1-4) Obviously, this was all played off of 'Uncertainty principle,' as it was mentioned in the early **_**NUMB3RS**_** episode by that name. I just changed it around a lot because when I looked at it on Wikipedia, the **_**Observer**_** and **_**Hawthorne**__**effect(s)**_**, seem to be much more relevant to the explanation—and reason for their being mentioned. Still, I suppose the **_**NUMB3RS**_** writers' thought **_**Uncertainty Principle**_** sounded neater, and it fit better with the episode as a title—what with Charlie being made uncertain of his math and whatnot. Still, if you want to read into any more of this, I was pretty lazy and just went with what Wikipedia had on the following pages: (1) ****.org/wiki/Observer_effect****, (2) ****.org/wiki/Hawthorne_effect****, (3) ****.org/wiki/Uncertainty_principle****, and (4) ****.org/wiki/Observer_effect_(physics)****.**

**(5) OK, I know next to nothing about security systems, and despite attempting to research it more, most of the information I found online just confused me more. So I just stuck with Wikipedia again, going with what they said on Ultrasonic Detectors on: ****.org/wiki/Burglar_alarm****. I know quite a bit of the information listed there as been contested, and is apparently out-of-date, but logically this is supposed to be taking place more than a decade ago, so it certainly wasn't out of date then. And the remote thing they used to deactivate the alarm I just made up: a techno-pagan sort of thing that BTVS's obvious supernatural focus and writers license makes possible. I'd appreciate any suggestions anyone might have on improving that scene.**

**(6) I don't think where in the Winters' mansion was supposedly located was ever mentioned in the episode, so I just said Los Angeles. Sorry if that seems inaccurate.**

**Anyway, I hope everyone liked this chapter and constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated! And fic recs! I NEED MORE FICS TO READ! :-P**

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 8: Mortal Peril – Part III.**_


	9. Chapter 8: Mortal Peril P3 of 4

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: *Tears* NUMB3RS Season 5 is over! Which means I have to wait more than three months for more! :-(**

**As a plus, though, the last few episodes were ****beautiful****. :-D**

**The only thing I would've changed about the '**_**Angels and Devils**_**' is I wouldn't have based the villain quite so much on Charles Manson. I mean, going so far as to name him "Mason" Duryea was a bit much. And I think he would've been much more interesting if the audience could see what was drawing all the girls in. A guy who actually came across at attractive and charismatic, not just a wacko with a bunch of crazy chicks for minions. Plus, James Callis definitely could've pulled it off. **

**But, then again, I guess the NUMB3RS writers have always gone out of their way to make sure their nastier bad guys come across as real bad (and unlikable bad) guys. Whereas Joss Whedon and the other Buffy writers delighted with playing with our heads when it came to the bad guys. Case in point: Spike. (To that, I'd also like to add that it was really weird seeing James Marsters on NUMB3RS as Damien Lake in S5E15 "Guilt Trip." A great kind of weird, of course, but I missed the British accent.)**

**...But I guess that's enough off-topic. Except for my rec!**

**OK, this time I'm going to recommend a HARRY POTTER fan fic that isn't a crossover but is nonetheless wonderful. I wouldn't think it'd need rec-ing, but I recently read a new fan fic where the author confessed to having never heard of it before their reviewers started comparing their fic to it. Therefore, I feel I must make it known to anyone who hasn't at least heard of it. Though, as a warning, it's more comedy than anything else. So, my rec for this chapter is: ****Make a Wish**** by ****Rorschach's Blot****, on .**

**On that note, I'd like to thank my beta-reader, **_**NeverTooOld**_** for not only beta-reading this chapter, but also for actually responding to my request for fic recs. Seriously, does it take all that much work to think of a few of your favorites and give me a list of titles and authors? Nonetheless, THANK YOU **_**NeverTooOld**__**!**_** ^_^**

**Warnings: Umm...So far we're up to spoiling Season 3 in Buffy. If you—for some inexplicable reason—haven't seen that yet and don't want it spoiled, don't read any further. Other than that, our lovable characters may swear a bit in this chapter, but that's the only thing I think I need to warn about. If you see something else, please feel free to bring it up.**

* * *

**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 8: Mortal Peril**_

_**Part III**_

_

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_

3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 _0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Charlie groaned as the familiar sound of his mother's gentle knock on his bedroom door pulled him out of the wonderful world of sleep.

"Time to get up, sleepy head," his mother told him, a very clear note of amusement in her voice and—Charlie knew, despite not being able to see through the pillow he'd already covered his head with—that she was smiling. "Annie's been up for hours, you know. She's all packed and ready to go."

His desire to complain about Annie being super-human and not really needing sleep honestly surprised him, but Charlie didn't really need to bite his tongue.

"I made oatmeal, better hurry up though if you want it hot. Or at all." Now she did laugh. "Seems Annie's definitely recovered her appetite recently, she was starting her second bowl a few minutes ago."

Charlie winced as he realized the box of granola bars Collins had given Annie immediately after they returned to the truck to drive back into LA obviously hadn't been enough for the Slayer's post-slaying snacking. He'd have to remember that for future reference. Most of the times she'd gone on patrols this summer she hadn't run into anything—or she'd been going through clubs and grabbing snacks as she went—so it hadn't been as obvious.

Then again after watching Russell Winters' massive mansion go up in flames after an explosion set by the Watchers' team, food had probably been driven from even Annie's mind. Which was probably why she was so hungry this morning.

Realizing his mother was apparently waiting for an actual answer, he finally sighed.

"I'll be down in a minute, mom. Thanks."

"No problem, sweetheart. I'll just go get your bowl ready: before Annie eats it all."

Charlie heard the door close behind his mother a moment later, and waited several seconds more before reluctantly rolling to the side to flip his pillow back under his head. Then he stared at the ceiling for several more moments—wincing slightly as the sunlight that was streaming in through his windows stung his sleepy but sensitive eyes—before even more reluctantly forcing himself to roll out of bed. Once his feet were under him he looked at his bureau, but then shook his head and walked over to his closet instead, grabbing his bathrobe off of the hook it hung on the inside of the door and sticking his feet a little ways into the closet to slip his slippers on.

He really didn't understand how Daffy Duck could be related to math in any way, but Don had insisted that the Daffy slippers suited him perfectly for that reason. And Charlie had never really seen a reason to argue with him about it. They were comfortable slippers. And when the original pair—a weird birthday gift from his brother several years before—had worn out after too much use, the identical pair his mom had bought to replace them had been just as comfortable.

And it wasn't like he had to avoid letting Annie see them. She'd already seen them over the summer, and hadn't been able to think of anything she could say about them to tease him. Not that she hadn't tried. No, Charlie had seen the same concentrated look on her face, and the half-smile that indicated she was thinking, _many_ times before she finally gave up.

Thinking of Annie again, however, brought a slight frown to his face. He could still remember Peter Caldwell's words quite clearly, '_At long as she survives past her eighteenth, she should be fine for a good while yet._'

That Watcher hadn't been willing to elaborate on that, and had all but ignored any question he'd asked to that effect thereafter. Then they were leaving and the mansion was exploding behind them before they were hurried back into the van and driven—at surprisingly legal speeds, thought Charlie guessed they wouldn't want to speed away from the scene of a crime, it'd look to suspicious—to the _House_, where the Watchers left them before disappearing down the road.

They'd probably send a report of some kind to Dr. Giles about all of this, but once the job was done they clearly didn't stick around. Though he supposed they could show up at the _House_ today for some kind of follow up, but he didn't think that was likely.

He glanced at his bedroom door, then—still frowning—moved over towards his desk instead and opened the drawer that he'd placed Credere ab Memorae; roughly translated as 'secrets of the past'* or, as Annie had dubbed it: The Field-Watchers' Book. (1)

Charlie couldn't stop the frown that found its way onto his face as he opened the book. Even before he'd met any of the operatives, this book had bothered him.

And it wasn't just the fact that a bunch of parchment bound together with magic was able to act like a computer. It wasn't because the computer-like book that his was a copy of was created centuries before the United States of America came into being, either. That was actually pretty cool.

It was the data that the book contained that bothered him.

Turning to the _Table of Contents_, he tapped the little sigil next to _Names_, then the icon next to _Callings_, and then turned the page to watch as a list appeared on the formerly blank page. A list of more than a hundred names in one column, with dates two others. Flipping his laptop open, he hit the spacebar to wake it from sleep mode as he sat down, and impatiently waited for it do so. A few moments later, he opened a spreadsheet and quickly typed in the first twenty-five pieces of data. He followed the list in the book itself, which listed Slayers by their surname and then given name. Those that didn't have surnames were listed first, in alphabetical order according to their given names.

He was a bit amused to note that the book apparently knew nothing concrete about Sineya, but her name was obstinately listed nonetheless.

The mathematician blinked when he noticed that the names of Joanna Aiken and Eljorah Amsel were both italicized and underlined on the magical list, but reasoned he could investigate that later and kept going. After all, he'd undoubtedly need to input a lot more than twenty-five names and their corresponding dates before he really had anything to work with, but this was a good starting point...

After finishing that, he turned back to the _Table of Contents_ and pressed the sigil for _Names_ again and then the icon for _Deaths_, before flipping to the next page again. After a quick glance down the list to confirm that these were, in fact, the same Slayers as before, he nodded in approval and started adding the years to his list.

Then he returned to the _Table of Contents_ to ask for the Slayers birthdates. As he went down the list adding this data to another column he'd placed before the Calling column, he added another column after the death dates, where he quickly calculated the girls ages at their times of death and morosely added that to the final column.

He also added Sineya's age—as the only piece of data available to him, with her confirmation—to her row.

**NAME: __________ CALLED—DIED**_____**AGE|**

Artemia: __________ 606 BCE—595 BCE___23_|

Dark of Moon:______ 1249 CE—1250 CE___21_|

Ejuk: _____________ 2702 BCE—2700 BCE___17_|

|Hashetsi: _________ 1530 BCE—1528 BCE___15_|

|Livia: ____________ 1536 BCE—1530 BCE___21_|

|Naayéé'neizgháni: __ 1838 CE—1841 CE___16_|

|Sineya: ___________ ? BCE—? BCE___15_|

|Raita: ____________ 1000 BCE—996 BCE___17_|

|Aarle, Mia: ________ 1751 CE—1755 CE___18_|

|Afranius, Gabriella: __ 1503 CE—1505 CE___14_|

|Ahmed, Mudiwa: ____ 1585 CE—1585 CE___15_|

**_Aiken, Joanna: _**_____**_ 1783 CE—1786 CE_**___**18**_

Albalf, Tariro: _______ 1654 CE—1656 CE___16_|

|Al-Dur, Shagrat: ____ 1242 CE—1246 CE___20_|

Alfarsi, Melek: ______ 1738 CE—1741 CE___17_|

Alim-ud-Din, Nasha: __ 1417 CE—1419 CE___16_|

Alkaev, Mariya: _____ 1835 CE—1836 CE___18_|

Allam, Subira: ______ 1475 CE—1476 CE___15_|

Allard, Maguerite: ___ 1793 CE—1795 CE___17_|

al-Mammun, Nawal: _ 1437 CE—1439 CE___15_|

Alvarado, Marta: ___ 1993 CE—1993 CE___16_|

**_Amsel, Eljora: ___ 1772 CE—1777 CE_**___19_

Appiah, Sethunya: __ 1372 CE—1374 CE___15_|

Arce, Frida: _______ 1800 CE—1801 CE___15_|

|ar-Rashid, Neka: ___ 1201 CE—1203 CE___16_|

Charlie frowned at the list as he finished it, not liking what he was seeing but also sure there was something he was missing. Glancing at Aiken and Amsel's bolded names again. He reached for Aiken's name, hoping that the information that called up would be enough of an explanation, but he was interrupted from a call up the stairs before his finger reached the name.

Charlie frowned at the list as he finished it, not liking what he was seeing but also sure there was something he was missing. Glancing at Aiken and Amsel again, he bolded those entries in his spreadsheet before going back to the book, he reached for Aiken's name, hoping that the information that called up would be enough of an explanation, but he was interrupted from a call up the stairs before his finger reached the name.

"Charlie!" his mother called, a clear not of exasperation in her still-gentle voice. "Your breakfast is getting cold!"

The mathematician glanced back at the list again, still frowning with his finger hovering over Aiken's name, but then he shook his head and closed the book. He placed the book back in the drawer with his own handwritten list on top and slid said drawer closed, then hit save on his computer before closing it and finally hurried down to breakfast.

He wasn't surprised to see Annie was a cheerful as ever when he entered the kitchen, even though a glance at the clock confirmed that it wasn't yet eight o'clock in the morning. They'd only gotten back last night just before 3A.M. And that was when they went over to Lily's to tell Denise the good news. Charlie was sure it was almost four by the time his head hit his pillow.

But he also knew that his parents had learned this summer that giving Annie too much caffeine was bad for their sanity. So the half-finished cup in front of her was certainly her first, and the only one she was getting. As the stimulating drink made her literally almost bounce off walls if she drank any more than that.

From what Caldwell had said, it wasn't likely that he'd see her like this again this time next year. She couldn't smile in greeting before turning her attention back to what was probably her fourth bowl of oatmeal—judging by the amazed looks his parents were sending in her direction—if she was dead.

If he wanted to be more optimistic about it, he could just take Caldwell's comment at face value and assume that he meant the Slayers that were good enough to survive that length of time were more likely to survive even longer. But that didn't feel right.

And it didn't help that he could feel Sineya's angry agreement with that thought.

Apparently Annie felt Sineya's anger and undoubtedly Charlie's worry, too, because she glanced back at him again a moment later, no longer smiling. Now she was worried. But his mom spoke up before she could say anything.

"Here's your oatmeal, dear. I just added some cream, but there's honey, syrup and sugar on the table so you can add whichever suits you," she told him, waving her hand towards the table where his father was seated across from Annie.

"Thanks, Mom," he murmured, placing a quick kiss on her cheek before nodding to the other two at the table. "Morning, Dad. Morning, Annie." Seeing the closest chair was obviously his mother's, as a half-empty coffee cup was sitting in front of it and it was the place nearest to the stove, Charlie slowly made his way around the table. He looked up as his mom started speaking over her shoulder, from the sink where she was putting a now empty pot to soak in soapy water.

"If you're not sure which one you want to try, you should ask Annie. She's tried all three this morning," his mom told him, a subtle note of teasing in her tone that was meant more for Annie than him.

Annie laughed softly at the surprised look he shot her. It wasn't that he was surprised the Slayer could eat that much with ease, he was just surprised she was willing to eat the amount of food she actually needed in front of his parents.

"Guess I was a little hungry this morning," the Slayer shrugged, smiling softly as she finished up her last bowl of oatmeal before rising to take it to the sink, picking up and throwing back the rest of her coffee to finish it along the way.

"Thank you, Annie."

"I can—"

"Oh don't be silly. Seeing as you're only staying one night, you can certainly enjoy the privileges of a guest this morning. Though I do wish you could stay longer."

Annie shook her head and sighed, still smiling softly as she replied. "I would, but that'd mean missing school."

"Which would be a bad thing, I know. Especially since your homecoming dance is at the end of the week." Charlie winced as he knew where his mother was going now, and sure enough she continued. "It was nice of you to think of Charlie. He didn't get to go to most of his high school dances. He didn't even go to his senior prom, because he got into a fight with his brother when he found out Don's date was—"

"Mom!"

Annie laughed, "_You_ already told me this, remember, Charlie? So you can't really get mad at your mom for it." Then she turned back to his mother with a smile and one eyebrow raised, "Though he didn't give me any details."

Charlie groaned and his father shot him a clearly amused but still sympathetic look as his best friend moved off into the living room to chat about him.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 __1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Lily's House, Pasadena, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Buffy couldn't help but stare as the Lincroft siblings completed their spell and her eyes follow the spark of glittery, golden light that shot from Giles book to the parchment and bottles of ink the pair had piled nearby. Then the parchment and ink gradually started glowing, brighter and brighter until she finally had to look away. When the light fade she turned back, blinking spots of left-over stars out of her vision as two identical copies of a book gradually stopped glowing.

The books didn't look much like the original, but she supposed that wasn't really important. Especially since the information was apparently enchanted into the book and magically called up when needed. Which was why she _really_ hadn't wanted to type up all of the info. That probably would have taken months, if not longer. The copies the two mages had made were thinner than the original, and much more modern-looking.

"Well, what'd you think?"

Buffy blinked, but quickly looked up to meet Deborah's gaze, smiling as she did so. "They look great... You're finished, right?"

"We are," Deborah nodded, smiling as she and her brother finished putting their magical paraphernalia away. "Take whichever one you want, it really doesn't matter."

Buffy nodded again as she reached out to grab the original and one of the copies, stacking one on top of the other. "So these'll stay up to date, too, right?"

This time Deborah's brother answered, "Yes, everything that's in Dr. Giles book will appear in these two as well. So as long as his remains up-to-date ours will too."

"Great," Buffy nodded again, slipping said books into her shoulder bag before glancing towards the kitchen as Lily emerged with a tray of drinks she'd spent the last several minutes preparing while the Lincrofts had breezed through their spell. Honestly she was a bit surprised Lily hadn't stayed around to watch the spell, but the older blonde and her coven-siblings had all agreed that temptation was never a good thing when one first started out practicing, especially so late in life. That made sense, though it did make her worry a little for all the magic Willow had been getting into in the last few years, more often then not without any real guidance because Giles—after his 'tragic foray into the Dark Arts' as he called the time—wanted nothing to do with magic and only resorted to it when there was no other choice. Still, maybe she could talk Willow into coming to LA to meet with some of the covens, it'd probably be good for her. She smiled and nodded her thanks as she accepted the whipped-cream-topped mug of hot cocoa Lily handed her.

"Hot chocolate for you, and Charlie and me," Lily murmured, setting the additional two mugs on coasters nearest the coach Buffy was sitting on before setting two more mugs on coasters by the chairs Deborah and Richard had taken. "And tea for you. Cream and two sugars for Deborah, and just lemon for Richard."

"Thank you, Lily," Deborah chuckled, while her brother echoed her.

"Yes, thank you, Miss O'Connor."

Lily frowned at the older mage, but was stopped from complaining about his use of her last name by a knock on the door. She shook her head as she hurried out of the room, setting the tray down on a table near the doorway as she passed through. "Right on time, come on."

Even if they hadn't already known to expect him, Buffy had felt Charlie coming closer to Lily's house for the last few minutes, so she wasn't surprised at all when he joined her on the coach, eagerly picking up his still-steaming hot cocoa, a moment later.

"Everything OK?" the mathematician asked, glancing around after he'd finished his first sip of hot cocoa and then started on his second, not noticing when some of the whipped cream avoided entering his mouth by clinging to his upper lip.

"Everything went well, Dr. Eppes," Richard replied, apparently not noticing the annoyed look Charlie sent him or the slightly amused looks on all of the ladies' faces as he continued. "Honestly, I was expecting much more trouble—"

"I wasn't, Mr. Pessimism," Deborah cut in with a smirk as her brother ignored her.

"Considering the wealth of information this book contains. But our spells to catch _rakbus_* or stop any kind of self-destruct sequence weren't necessary. Nor are there any kinds of _sansus_* or _alals_* on the book." (2a/2b/2c).

"Except for the intricate weave of spells that connects the book to the Council's vast archives."

"How old is this book? The whole system, I mean?" Charlie asked curiously, sipping at his hot cocoa again before continuing after a glance at the old-looking tome. "Was it created in response to the Internet, or—"

"Oh no!" Deborah shook her head, her smiling softening her abrupt response. "No. Some of the covens have had books similar to this," she indicated the tome, "for centuries. And looking at all of the renewals on this, it has to be," she glanced at her brother in askance, "I'd say about eight-hundred years old, wouldn't you?"

Richard nodded his agreement while he finished the cookie he'd taken from the plate Lily had set on the table before they'd even started casting the spell. He picked up another cookie and held it out to his sister with a sharp glance, waiting until she took it and started eating to respond.

The action puzzled Buffy for a second, but then she remembered how tired Giles and Willow could get after casting a big spell and realized that the energy for the spell obviously had to come from somewhere. It only made sense that they should replace what they'd used after casting. Just like she usually needed to after patrol. Though she'd slipped into one of her bad old habits of not making sure she ate something last night, too shocked by needing to fight men—human beings—and the destruction the Council's operatives had left in their wake.

Charlie probably would've reminded her, but he'd been crashing from the adrenaline high all the fear and excitement associated with the hit had stirred up and had barely made it all the way to his bed before collapsing. The only reason he hadn't slept in his clothes from the raid was because she'd taken his shoes and socks off, and his coat, then put his PJs right next to him. Then she'd deliberately bugged him over their bond—which had actually been rather fun—until he'd finally roused himself enough to change and eventually thrown his clothes at the door. Then she'd thrown his clothes in his laundry hamper and tucked him in as he passed out again. The docile, caring acts—combined with the length of time and focus it had taken to see them through—had, more than anything else, really helped her overcome most of the residual tension and stress that had lingered from the shocking evening, and were probably the only reason she'd actually slept rather well last night.

"I'd say closer to a full millennium, myself," Richard replied once he was satisfied that his sister was eating.

Buffy had to smile at the shocked look that spread across Charlie's face as he stared at the amused pair of magical siblings.

"Eight to ten centuries?" Charlie shook his head in amazement when both mages nodded.

"What'd you mean by 'renewals'?" Buffy asked curiously.

Deborah finished off her cookie with a sip of tea and another annoyed glance in her brother's direction before replying "A spell this complex is very delicate, and constant use can wear at it over time."

"But it's supposed to be used, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course it is. But that's why it has to be renewed occasionally. The renewal is just the reapplication of the same spell over the one that was originally cast, and it keeps the original from fraying."

Lily was apparently very confused by this, and spoke up after a moment, frowning as she did so. "But wouldn't that corrupt the original spell?"

"If it was cast incorrectly. If the wrong ingredients were used, or the intent was impure, yes. It would be very easy to corrupt, or even destroy the original spell." Deborah offered the witch-in-training a kind smile, "That's why only masters of the art ever do any real work in the field."

"Oh," Lily nodded slowly as she considered that bit of information. Her eyes widened as her mind ceased onto more information. "The magic shop owner that Madam Dolin was so mad at—"

"Hasn't been taking care of the books in his care," Richard nodded. "Correct. That's why the Council will be having several words with him."

At the still slightly confused looks the younger faces in the room, Deborah elaborated gently. "Another reason the spells must be renewed, especially when a magic book is kept with other magic books, is to keep their enchantments intact and whole. To keep them form mingling and merging with potentially dangerous consequences." She shook her head, "As long as the spells are kept up-to-date, that isn't a problem. But if too many renewals are missed, the books begin to come undone. And in some cases that can be very, very dangerous."

"So all magic books need to be renewed?" Buffy asked, wondering if Giles had to do that occasionally.

"For the most part, yes," Richard confirmed again. "The more complex the spells, the more important timely renewals are. The only exception that I know of is family grimoires."

Buffy and Charlie both blinked at the new term, though only Buffy vocalized her confusion, "Huh?"

"The old spell books of magical families tend to inherit a bit of their owners power over time." Richard continued, his tone adopting that of a history teacher who was teaching interested pupils. "Many of the ancient books are at least somewhat sentient, and very loyal to their family."

As interesting as that was, Charlie honestly wanted to know more about the book he was planning to study in avid detail. "How do the renewals tells you how old it is?" he asked, nodding towards Giles' book. Even as he asked, his mind drew up dozens of possible comparisons from the mathematics he'd seen in studies ranging all the way from ancient archaeology to modern cosmology.

Deborah switched topics far more gracefully, apparently not remotely bothered by his abruptness as she replied, "Well, properly renewing the spell doesn't replace the first one, you see. It just overlaps it and thereby helps hold it together.'

"That's why the wards of estates that have been in a single family, or group, for a long period of time are generally much more powerful than newer wards," Richard offered, then shrugged with another correction. "Though there are always exceptions, of course. Wards cast by a particularly powerful mage—or just by someone who's very gifted in warding—will always be more powerful than wards cast by mages of lesser real power or ability."

"Yes," Deborah nodded, setting her empty tea cup down. She nodded again, in thanks, when Lily shot up to get her more, then continued. "But the point is there will always be at least traces of every proper renewal of this book, with each one bearing the unique magical signatures of their castors." She shrugged, but smiled again as Lily returned with her second fully prepared cup of tea. "A spell this complex should be renewed about four times a century to keep it functioning properly."

"And it's been renewed between thirty-two and forty times?" Charlie asked.

"Just about," Richard confirmed, shrugging again as his sister had earlier. But he shook his head when he set his empty mug down, waving Lily back to her seat. "We could scan it more closely to reveal the exact number if your interested, we didn't need to know it to copy the patterns and weaves when we were recreating the spell." He looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping his chin a few times, then continued. "Though we do already know that the Watchers Council really came into being—such as it is now—during Caesar the Roman Empire's _Pax Romana_—basically the imperial golden age. And these kinds of spells were fairly well established back then. Though only the elite could afford them."

"And that's when they'd really have needed it too," Charlie realized, nodding to himself even as Richard nodded his agreement. "As the empire expanded."

"Right, the Council spread with it. And it was much easier carry around one book that could magically summon information from thousands of others rather than carting a whole library all over the empire."

Deborah was smiling as she added, "That's also how some ancient texts that were supposedly lost with the Library of Alexandria have popped up over the years. Hundreds of these books were made and bound to that library, but when the source was destroyed, most of the magic books had to transform into the form they were most accustomed to."

"And skilled mages have been able to reconstruct much of the library over the years, using those books," Richard nodded again. "Because the spells really do remember, though they can't recall what they aren't directed to."

Charlie shook his head, his brilliant mind momentarily boggled by the thought of just how much history this spell could tell. After a moment he asked, "Who created it?"

Both Lincrofts shook their heads.

"No one knows precisely whom, though there are theories," Deborah told them.

Her brother continued, "Most believe that whoever it was must have worked in the court of Alexander the Great, though. As the oldest texts started appearing then." At the new round of astonished faces he smiled as he continued, "Alexander had _many_ mages in his employ. More than almost any other king before him ever had, save for some of ancient Egypt's pharaohs. Though undoubtedly one of his greatest strengths was that he never became dependent upon them. He remained aware of them, certainly. And kept all the powerful ones he could find loyal to him. He didn't use them for battles and the like. But more importantly, he had more masters of different kinds at his command than ever before. As his empire grew, these masters met and amazing new feats of magic, such as this, were born. Feats born of human creativity and ingenuity, rather than worshipping demons."

Buffy and Charlie nodded together, not noticing the amused looks their perfectly synced movements received as they absorbed the fact that there was undoubtedly a lot of history they should probably learn outside of schooling. As history like this, the history of magic, wasn't something they'd be able to learn in school. But it could still certainly be important in their lives. And the war they were both now tied to.

Buffy blinked again as something else occurred to her, and frowned. "If Giles can call up any information he wants with this book, why did he bring so many books from England with him?"

Both mages stared at her for a moment. Then shook their heads.

"If he had this book with him, which he certainly should have, if he was assigned to Watch you, he certainly had no reason to," Richard replied, frowning in slight confusion. "Except perhaps, for a fondness for some of the specific texts."

After a long moment of silence, Charlie chuckled and then shrugged when everyone looked at him. He raised an eyebrow at Buffy, "Well, you did say he doesn't like using computers. Maybe this is too much like one for him." Then he smirked slightly, "Which could explain why he was so willing to part with it. Maybe he was hoping you'd ruin it somehow."

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 __0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head and sighed at the—somehow strangely matching—stubborn expressions on his parents faces. "Really, you _don't_ have to drive us. I mean, you're driving all the way to Washington next weekend."

"And the bus isn't that bad," Annie added, but her helpful comment fell on the same deaf ears his did.

"Don't be ridiculous, Charlie, Annie." His mother shook her head, her hair swaying a little more than it usually did because the hair-cut she'd scheduled for later that week was a few weeks later than usual. "It's only a two hour drive. An—"

"Four hours, since you have to drive back." Annie cut in, seemingly impervious to the looks both of Charlie's parents then sent her.

"Well, yes," the older blonde admitted, then shrugged. "But there's a nice shopping mall halfway in between here and there, and we've already agreed on stopping there. I need to buy a new outfit for the conference anyway."

"You're stopping there on the way back?" Charlie asked, frowning at the smirk his father set his way while his mother and Annie both rolled their eyes.

"Yes, Charlie. We're stopping there for dinner," his mother confirmed, then glanced at Annie. "Unless you'd like—"

But Annie was thankfully shaking her head, "No thanks, Maggie." She shrugged, smirking slightly at Charlie. "I don't want to subject Charlie to one of my shopping excursions just yet."

Charlie looked at her for a moment, considering, then nodded decisively, "Thanks, I think."

"Yes, thank you, Annie," his dad spoke up, smiling at the pair from over the morning's newspaper before turning his eyes back to the article he'd been reading even as he continued. "Now, shouldn't you two be packing?"

"Already finished," Annie shrugged at him. "Not that I had to pack much."

"No," Charlie's mom agreed, smiling at the younger teen before glancing at her son. "And you're all packed, sweetheart?"

"Yes, mom." Charlie confirmed with a sigh as he moved towards the sink to rinse his dishes from lunch off before putting them in the dishwasher. "I didn't have to pack much either, you know."

"No. But your tux—"

"Is still in the bag that you packed it in days ago, mom. I won't be taking it out until I need it in Sunnydale."

"The carrier should keep it from wrinkling, but you might need to iron it before the dance." His mom replied, frowning slightly as she thought of it and then glanced at Annie. "Do you—"

"My mom and I know how to iron, we have a board and everything," the younger woman reassured her with smile as she rose to take her own dishes to the sink only to shrug as Charlie stole them to put them in the dishwasher for her. "Thanks."

"Oh!"

The other three people in the room jumped as his mother suddenly shot out of her seat and out of the kitchen. They all stared as the kitchen door swung shut behind her and blinked a few times as they heard her rummaging around in the dining room. Comprehension dawned when she returned several moments later with a somewhat familiar bag in hand. The same bag that held the camera that had taken the picture Annie and Charlie both had several copies of in various places.

"You _will_ be bringing back pictures, Charlie. I'd recommend taking pictures of the dance, as mementos, but at the very least you _will_ take pictures of yourself and your lovely dates before you leave for the dance. Understand?"

But Charlie had to frown at her, shaking his head in bemusement as he moved back to the table and sat down between Annie and his dad. "I have to take a picture of myself? With a mirror or—"

"No silly," Annie said, hitting his shoulder lightly and smirking as she continued. "We'll let my mom take the picture. She'll want to anyway. And we can give Giles the camera at the dance, as long as he knows how to use it." She finished the last with a frown.

"I'm sure Dr. Giles has used a camera before, Annie." Charlie shook his head at her, then frowned at the look of doubt she sent him and the very honest doubt he was sensing over their bond.

"You haven't seen him try to open his email account."

"I have to say, in defense of all the men of my generation," Charlie's dad interjected, drawing all eyes to him, "One, cameras have been around a lot longer than computers." He held a finger up in Charlie's direction just in case he might comment, "For common use, at the very least. And they're a lot easier to use."

"So your Dr. Giles should be fine," his wife agreed with a chuckle. "He's your high school librarian, right?"

"And family friend, kind of a mentor to my whole group friends, too," Annie confirmed. "Willow likes to study and we hang with her, so we hang in the library."

"Oh?" Mrs. Eppes laughed, shaking her head when she saw her son roll his eyes. "I'm sure you do some studying, too?"

Annie shrugged, "Maybe a little. When I have to. But Willow actually likes it."

"Reading can be fun if you give it a chance, you know," Alan offered, shaking his head when both of teenager cringed. Though Charlie was quite capable of reading and writing beyond the college level—he did have a PhD and would soon be a college professor, after all—that didn't mean he liked reading in general. He'd always preferred raw statistics and numbers in any form to novels. Annie, on the other hand, always seemed to be too full of energy to sit still and read. Though he was sure that as soon as something caught her interest—or was necessary—she'd devour it.

"OK, now why don't you two load the car—"

"Mom—"

The lawyer shook her head, "Even if you take the bus, I'll still be driving you to the bus station, so there's no point in putting off packing the car."

"Yeah, but after you've locked us in the car there isn't much we can do to make you stop at the bus station, is there?" Annie asked, one eyebrow raised as the older blonde smirked.

"No, there isn't. And you'll save a lot of breath if you just accept that. Now go pack!"

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Mrs. Eppes' Car, a California Highway – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as she glanced over at her friend, who appeared to be quite content to stare out the window at the blue SUV in the lane next to them, which also wasn't moving. The genius had been staring out the window like that since they got on the freeway, after he'd finally relented and stop trying to talk his mom into turning around. Buffy had tried it for a while too, but it was pretty boring once the traffic had come to a dead stop.

A small frown sneaked onto her face as she noticed the dip the corners of his lips seemed to be taking, and concentrated on their bond a minute to see if the expression was an accurate depiction of his emotions. For the most part, Charlie had been fairly blank today. The shock and post-rush of last nights activities giving way to exhaustion last night and a little bit of apathy this morning.

That's what'd happened to her anyway, but now she wasn't sure if it was the same for him.

Maybe he was worried about visiting Sunnydale? He'd been there before, to drop her off when their bond and empathetic powers were much weaker, but she knew he hadn't been able to feel their approach to the negative area the way both of them now could.

The filthy feeling of all the negative emotions—lingering traces of years and years of terror interlaced with the trembling nerves of a cowed populace, broken up only occasionally by bouts of anger and real pain—all of it was terrible. And she was used to it. Charlie wasn't.

Still frowning slightly, Buffy closed her eye and took a soft but deep breath before opening them again, locking her gaze on Charlie's even though he wasn't facing her. Then she reached for their bond, trying to push her thoughts towards his. '_Are you OK?_'

At the very least she knew he sensed her concern right away, because his head snapped around and his surprised gaze met her, eyes wide for a moment before his expression softened and he nodded. '_I'm fine,_' a wave of warmth carried his reassurance.

Buffy cocked her head, brows furrowed as she pushed her thoughts towards his again, still not entirely sure he was getting the words with the feelings, but figuring it was worth a try. '_What's wrong?_'

'_Nothing,_' Charlie shook his head, his brow furrowing slightly. He bit his lip and then suddenly reached for the notebook that was stuffed in the pocket on the back of the passengers seat—apparently a necessity of Charlie's was that there had to be notebooks everywhere, just in case, and his parents were happy to oblige—and he opened it, slipping the pen that was in it's sleeve out to write.

_**Nothing's wrong. I'm fine, Annie. Just thinking.**_

Still frowning, Buffy snatched the pen out of his hand almost immediately after he'd put down the last period, to write her rebuke underneath his comment.

_**You're **__**not**__** fine. What's bothering you?**_

The mathematician stared at her for a moment, then shook his head and took the pen back, tilting the notebook away from her as he wrote his reply, which he handed back to her a moment later._**I'm fine**__**. Some of the data in your Watchers' book is bothering me, but I can't explain why. Not yet. I want to ask Dr. Giles about some of it first.**_

Buffy considered that, not liking it at all, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt anyway._** OK. You'll tell me soon?**_

Charlie nodded when she handed the pen back to him and scrawled out a quick reply.

_**As soon as I know what I'm looking at.**_

"Oh what's this?" Charlie's dad asked, smiling back at them with one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Should you really be in the practice of passing notes when you're going to be yelling at students for that in a few weeks time, Charlie?"

Buffy snorted, shooting Charlie a warm smile even as she answered Alan. "Just because he's gonna be teaching doesn't mean he can't pass notes."

"And why can't you just talk aloud like normal people?"

"Obviously because we don't want you to know what we're talking about," Buffy retorted with a smirk, the playful note in her voice successful dismissing the traces of tension that sprung up from the unexpected secrecy.

Charlie's wide-eyed look calmed as his parents burst into laughter.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Mrs. Eppes' Car**__**, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Charlie shifted uncomfortably as his mother drove past the Sunnydale welcome sign. He tried to hide how agitated his empathetic senses were, whether it was from the Hellmouth itself or—more likely—from the effect the extremely negative location had on the human populace's emotions. He knew Annie was watching him with no small amount of worry.

And as that worry suddenly increased, he knew he hadn't been successful at concealing his agitation from her. Though to be fair, hiding his emotions was almost impossible when she was sitting right next to him.

A pang of concern along their bond carried the question '_Are you OK?_' quite clearly through the silence, visible in her caring green gaze.

At the same time, his parents kept chatting about the town as they were seeing it, completely unaware of the countless dangers that lurked in the shadows.

After a moment, Charlie nodded and tried to send a general feeling of reassurance back to her. The wide range of extreme emotions was obviously very disquieting, but it wasn't really overwhelming. Not after a few deep, calming breaths with Annie's poignant presence and his parents familiar bickering and laughter to drown it out. '_I'm fine._'

Annie watched him for a few moments more, but then she nodded and leaned forward a little to look over his father's shoulder. "Take a left up ahead, Maggie. After _Joey's Pizza_."

"I know," his mom shot the younger blonde a small smile even as she hit her signal and started slowing down. "I dropped you off here just a few weeks ago, remember?"

"I remember," Annie admitted, sounding a bit sheepish. "Thanks for that, again."

Margaret Eppes sighed, "I already told you that thanks aren't remotely necessary, Annie..." Then an abrupt shift in her emotions—from slightly annoyed amusement to careful curiosity—made both Charlie and Annie look at the older woman more closely. "Would you prefer if we called you Buffy here?"

Annie blinked and stared.

Somehow both of them had forgotten till now that his parents had only known Buffy Anne Summers under the fake name of 'Annie' O'Connor, but being asked outright about it, when she'd never shared the fact that the hospital and the police officer had somehow just accepted her fake name.

"How did you—"

"I called in a few favors," Margaret admitted with a shrug.

Charlie glanced at his dad, who was still looking around, but it was obvious from his silence as the car cruised through Sunnydale's streets that he was already aware of Annie's real name too.

"Wasn't that hard. You two are listed in the phone book under this address. I wasn't sure why the police ignored your fake name, I was actually all ready to defend you in court. But I guess they just decided to let it go since you were being a good Samaritan, or something of the sort."

Alan snorted, "Or they just figured since they weren't going to bother investigating, why bother the person who saved his life?"

Charlie and Annie both blinked, a little stunned by both admissions.

"What police?" Charlie asked with a frown. He'd always wondered why the police hadn't interviewed him, but eventually let it go. Assuming that the syndrome that seemed to effect everyone who came into contact with the supernatural had effected the hospital staff too, and the police hadn't been called.

"They interviewed me while you were getting some tests done," Annie told him, shrugging at the surprised look he sent her.

"They were two days later then they should've been because the hospital hadn't even contacted them about your assault," his mother shook her head. "So I did. But I don't understand why they let the case go so quickly. They didn't even come by the house."

"Maybe there just wasn't any evidence for them to follow?" Annie suggested hesitantly. "I mean, I didn't see the guys that attacked Charlie, and they only stole a few things, right? Plus, Charlie doesn't know that many people for them to investigate, so—"

"Maybe," Charlie's mother cut in, then sighed as she shook her head while hitting her signal again for a right turn. "And if they'd reached that kind of conclusion after a bit of investigating, I might understand. I wouldn't be happy about it, but I'd have to let it go."

"But they didn't?" Charlie asked softly, wary of the simmering frustration he could sense from his mother as she made yet another turn.

"No. I called a friend in the LAPD a little over a week after your assault, and asked him to see if they were making any progress with the investigation." The aggravated lawyer shook her head again. "He called me back two hours later, said the case had already been put in with the cold cases, marked as random gang violence, or something similar. He didn't understand it any more then I did, but it was a completely different jurisdiction, so there wasn't much he could do."

"Well, whoever it was," Annie offered a little hesitantly, "I'm sure they'll get what's coming to them, if they haven't already."

Charlie blinked, a bit surprised at the Slayer's choice to continue to the discussion, but supposed it made sense that she'd tried to reassure his supernaturally-ignorant parents as best she could. And her comment immediately changed the suppressed anger he could feel coming off both his parents to slightly surprised confusion.

"What'd you mean, Annie?" Alan asked after a long second of contemplation.

"Well, they're bad guys, right? Bad guys always get what's comin' to them." Annie shrugged at the disbelief they could feel coming from his parents, just barely visible on the adults faces. "I mean, the world's not always fair, but I think that the bad people, at least, are eventually punished for their actions."

"Oh, so you don't believe in the balance of 'what goes around comes around'?" Charlie's dad tilted his head slightly as he spoke over his shoulder to her. "Just that the bad guys are eventually caught?"

"Somethin' like that, I guess."

"Why don't you think good actions come around, too?" Margaret asked after another moment's silence, though their empathetic senses were telling them that she unhappily agreed with the sentiment.

Annie shrugged again, "Seen too many bad things happen to good people. If the world was really fair, and both your good and bad actions eventually came back to you, that wouldn't happen."

"But you still think the bad'll come back to haunt you?" the lawyer asked curiously, shaking her head when Annie didn't immediately reply. "I'm really not trying to criticize you, Annie. It just seems like an interesting mindset."

"And one that you agree with?" Charlie asked, suppressing a smile at the immediate surprise both his parents radiating.

"I suppose I do." His mother's shrug was much less pronounced then Annie's had been as she hit the signal to turn again.

Charlie smiled a little at the relieved look that overtook Annie's face as they finally turned onto Revello Drive. Not that he blamed her. They _had_ been stuck in the car for more than twice the amount of time they'd originally been expecting, thanks to a surprisingly massive number of accidents along their route. Two of the accidents hadn't been that bad, except for the fact that they'd blocked up a lane and slowed down the traffic even further due to gawking. The third accident, however, had been bad. Apparently some poor idiot had pulled out in front of a eighteen wheeler and forced it to swerve around it to avoid rear-ending—and quite possibly crushing—the smaller car. Luckily the semi hadn't then taken out several more cars when it rolled, but it had taken out several lanes for quite a while this afternoon. Add all of the other people that apparently wanted to get out of the city Sunday afternoon, and the purportedly two hour drive had become almost five.

And then _this_ discussion had come up.

"I wish the world didn't work that way, but it is, generally speaking, how are society is engineered," Margaret continued.

"The bad guys that are caught go to prison, but good people can still end up starving on the streets," Alan agreed, his voice sad. Then a bit of pride worked its way in instead as he continued. "That's part of what makes the shelter you two helped set up so great."

"Yes," Margaret agreed immediately, smiling softly. "Hopefully we'll have a little more time to help out there in the coming months."

"I'm, uh, I'm sure Lily'll appreciate the help." Annie offered, "It's the one on the right, sixteen-thirty," she pointed out before continuing. "I know I'm hoping to help out more once the school year ends."

"You should look at some of the colleges in LA, too," Margaret suggested, ignoring the comment about which house it was, since she already knew and Annie knew that.

"We'd be happy to help. We certainly spent enough time looking at them a few years ago."

"You can pull in next to my mom's car. Your car should fit, right?" Annie asked, the slight uncertainty proving she'd never driven a car before.

And that she didn't have Charlie's ability to mentally measure space with ease, but he already knew that. Just like he knew he'd never be able to master any weapon half as well as she could handle it in an instant, and that despite the empathetic senses they both shared, he probably wouldn't ever fully understand what he was sensing like she did.

"It's fine," Margaret confirmed as she turned into the aforementioned spot.

Maybe it was because she had actually visited all the extremes, and frequently had more reason to with her Calling. Maybe it was because Charlie's nineteen years of life as a genius and a prodigy had just had him far more sheltered than most almost-twenty-year-olds would be. Maybe it was a bit of both, mixed in with many other things. But whatever the reason, she always seemed to understand exactly what they sensed, whereas he frequently had to analyze the feeling—specifically in relation to he was sensing it from—first. It made dealing with his parents much easier, as he _knew _them and had essentially analyzed everything he might need to know about their emotional ranges, any emotions outside of that were disconcerting but he could still handle them, carefully. Still, Annie didn't seem to need to analyze like he did, she could just react to what she was sensing, possibly because that was what she basically _had_ to do as the Slayer, but he thought it was more than that.

"You comin', Charlie, or are you just gonna stay in the car while your parents meet my mom?" Annie's teasing voice drew him out of his thoughts. "'Cause for the visiting thing to work, you have to actually get out of the car."

Charlie blinked, then shook his head to clear it as he saw the car had been parked while he was thinking and his parents were both out, standing behind a smiling Annie, who'd come around and opened his door for him. "Sorry," he shrugged as he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and slid out, noting as he did so that their bags had already been unloaded from the trunk, too, and quickly taking his from his amused mother. "I was thinking."

"Hazard of being friends with a genius, I know," Annie grinned as he rolled his eyes. "But we need your big brain right here now, k?"

Charlie laughed, "I'm here, Annie." He pointed out, glancing towards her home's front door. "Shall we?"

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Buffy glanced at Faith again, not able to stop herself from the sheer shock factor.

It wasn't that Faith had stolen one of her dresses that bothered her. That was a sisterly-like action that Buffy had actually gotten used to over the last few weeks and didn't mind, as long as the borrowed piece of clothing was returned undamaged. But the dress she'd stolen wasn't even one Buffy had picked out for herself, it was a present from her Great-Aunt Kristine*, the kind of clothing Buffy only wore to family reunions. (2)

It wasn't ugly, it just wasn't Buffy.

And it _really_ wasn't Faith.

It didn't look bad on her, of course. None of the women on her mom's side of the family—no matter what the generation—were completely lacking in taste when it came to fashion. It just looked strange because the colors were much more subtle, much softer than the flashy colors Faith usually wore with black. The soft, flower-printed skirt flowed all the way down to her knees in comfortable, summery style and the sleeves were similarly loose, draping lightly over her shoulders, half-way down to her elbow.

And none of Faith's cleavage was showing, which meant the fifteen-year-old* generally wouldn't even spare the article of clothing a brief glance. (3)

But she did look nice. And she'd still managed to make both Charlie _and_ Alan blush several times with well-placed suggestive remarks that were just subtle enough to earn chuckles from the two mothers at the table, instead of glares.

Faith tended to act much more provocative and promiscuous then Buffy herself was comfortable being. The older teen had been wondering for a little while now if she should, maybe, look further into Faith's past—try to get her to talk about it—to understand _why_. But so far she hadn't seen a good opportunity for that kind of talk.

And she wasn't sure on how she was going to actually get Faith talking. The only thing Faith ever consistently said in response to questions of her health was that she was 'five by five.' And Buffy couldn't for the life of her figure out what that actually meant, other than it being Faith's unique way of saying 'I'm fine, end of story.'

She was jarred out of her thoughts by a mental jab of amusement from Charlie, and physically started when she glanced at him, to see that both he and Faith were watching her with grins that completely covered their faces.

"Who's spacing out now?" Charlie asked her, his voice barely loud enough for the two Slayers to hear while their parents continued their discussion of what colleges Buffy might be attending next year.

Unsurprisingly, Mr. and Mrs. Eppes knew a _lot_ about just about every college in the state. Buffy was sure they'd looked at every one of them before accepting Princeton's offer, which had split their family in two for several years, but it had apparently been the best move for Charlie's education. The full scholarships had undoubtedly helped, too, but there was little doubt in her mind that Charlie had, in fact, received scholarships of similar value from every college he'd applied to. He was a real genius, after all.

Buffy shrugged, "Sorry," she replied with a small smile. "Just thinking." Glancing around the table, she took note of the empty plates and rose, grabbing hers and Charlie's before turning to their parental units. "Mom? You guys done?"

"Oh, yes, honey, thank you." Joyce sent both her daughter and Faith smiles as the two started gathering plates, raising an eyebrow when Charlie started to rise and both girls immediately waved him back to his seat. Raising an eyebrow at her daughter, she offered, "Margaret and Alan are right, you know. There are a lot of great schools in LA. You should at least look at some of them."

"Yes, you could even stay with us, or Lily, if you prefer," Margaret suggested, also smiling even as she raised an eyebrow at the number of plates and bowls both teenagers were collecting, obviously set on clearing the table all in one go.

"Absolutely," Alan agreed, shaking his head at the same thing his wife was eyeballing, but following her lead in staying silent as it apparently wasn't something that bothered Annie's mother.

Of course, neither one of Charlie's parents knew that both girls were Slayer and therefore much stronger, more agile and graceful then they could otherwise be expected to be. Though even Charlie was starting to wince at the precarious setup they had going.

"Are you sure you don't want he—"

"Nope!" Faith actually let go of her pile to wave one finger at him while balancing all of the fragile china on one hand. "Mrs. S and B didn't let me start workin' for my stay till I'd been here for more 'en a week. So you can't do anything on your first night, at least. You're still a guest."

"Two hands, please, Faith," Joyce requested, wincing at the sight even as the brunette shot her an apologetic smile while obeying, before dancing off into the kitchen. "Buffy?"

"Yeah, Mom?" the younger blonde asked, even as she deliberately focused all of her attention on putting one more dish on her stack, effectively making the pile just a bit higher than her head.

Her mother looked at her for a moment, eyeing the fine china warily, before shaking her head. "Never mind, go put those in the sink, we'll talk when you get back."

All three adults winced—though Charlie had to bite back a chuckle—when Buffy shrugged and nonchalantly made her way into the kitchen after Faith. Once inside, she carefully set her pile down, quickly unstacking it into a slightly less precarious pile. Then she and Faith both started moving quickly through the motions of cleaning off plates and silverware just enough to leave the rest to the dishwasher.

Both Slayers shot each other amused smirks when they heard the older trio all release little sighs of relief a few moments later when no loud crashes came from the kitchen. A moment later, even softer chuckles followed as they seemingly found amusement in their shared relief.

Sensing a little bit of loneliness along her bond with Charlie, and knowing it was because they'd all but abandoned him to the adults, Buffy sent a burst of warm thoughts along their bond, reminding him that the two Slayers were just one room away and could easily hear everything that happened around the dining room table.

Then Joyce rose, smiling at all three of her guests. "Well I have three choices for dessert. We have apple pie, chocolate cake, or vanilla ice cream. W—"

"Or a combination thereof!" Faith called from the kitchen, earning more chuckles from the grownups and a smirk from Buffy.

"Or," Joyce nodded again, "if you're like either of my two teenagers, whose stomachs seemingly know no end, you may have some of each, if you'd like."

Buffy smiled slightly when Faith momentarily froze, her cheeks reddening, and smoothly grabbed the plate the brunette had been clearing, snapping her out of her surprised daze and back into the motions of clean up. No matter how many times Buffy and her mom made a point of saying Faith was part of the family now, it pleasantly surprised the younger teen every time.

"Apple pie sounds wonderful, Joyce. May I hel—"

Joyce cut the other woman off, "No, Faith was right about that. You have to visit several more times before you lose the 'guest' status and are allowed to actually do anything. So we have one apple pie. And you Alan? Charlie?"

"I think I'll push my stomach a little more and try apple pie ala mode, Joyce. Thank you," Charlie's dad replied, a warm smile clear in his tone.

"I'll try some of the cake, please."

"Two pies, one with ice cream and one cake." Joyce nodded, still smiling widely. "Would anyone care for some coffee?"

Margaret sighed, "We don't usually drink coffee at night, but it's probably a good idea, considering we still have to drive at least two hours tonight."

"You could stay—"

"Thank you, but no." Buffy knew Margaret was shaking her head and wearing that same kind smile the teen was so used to associating with her. "I don't have to be into work till late in the morning, but I'd rather sleep in a bit then get up early to rush in."

Again, Buffy knew without even looking that Alan Eppes was shrugging and spreading his hands in a gesture of surrender as he murmured, "Where she goes, I follow." And earned chuckles of approval from both women.

"All right, two regular coffees, then. And you, Charlie?"

Nodding slightly, Faith stepped away from the sink for a moment, to start the coffee maker, which had undoubtedly been set to go hours ago. Then she was back at the sink just in time to finish off the last plate while Buffy finished putting the cups into the dishwasher.

Buffy moved away from the dishwasher, letting Faith finish the silverware as she started getting out smaller plates, mugs and silverware for dessert.

"Unless you have decaf, you don't want to give him anything," Alan spoke up before his son could reply, and Buffy had to suppress a chuckle at the jolt of surprise she sensed from Charlie at his father's words. "Cause any caffeine at this hour will have him bouncing till sunrise, at least."

Joyce laughed, "Well, he'll fit right in around here, then."

Both Slayers winced a little, knowing that Joyce Summers knew that Alan and Margaret Eppes were not, in fact, 'in the know' when it came to their nightly activities, but that comment wandered a bit too close for comfort.

"An—Buffy and Faith stay up late, even on school nights?" Margaret asked, and Buffy was pretty sure the older woman had an eyebrow raised as she asked the question.

There was bit of exasperation in Joyce's voice as she replied, "The hours they keep would kill me in a few weeks or less, I think. But maybe having another normal person around will moderate them a little."

Buffy nodded to the other Slayer as the younger teen grabbed a towel to quickly wipe down the dining room table, undoubtedly planning on shooing the party into the living room in the process.

"Don't count on it," Charlie shook his head when all three adults looked at him. "Even when we went to bed before midnight, I know Annie was usually still up till at least two or three in the morning."

His mother frowned, "But she was usually up before you were."

"B and I don't need much sleep," Faith remarked, her tone deliberately carefree. "We run on caffeine, sugar and exercise. And I'm running a bit late on my nightly sugar-dose, so if you guys'd move into the living room so we could finish clean up and serve dessert, I'd appreciate it."

This time Charlie and Buffy both chuckled with the adults even as the Eppes obediently rose and made their way towards the living room, already knowing where it was since that was where they'd been before dinner was served.

"I'll just get—"

"No, B and I've got everything, Mrs. S. Just tell us what you want for dessert and we'll take care of it," Buffy was pretty sure Faith had her hands on her hips as she deliberately blocked the older woman's attempts to enter the kitchen.

"That's alright, Faith, really I—"

"We've got it, Mom," Buffy called to her, smiling slightly. "Do you want pie, ice cream, or both?"

"Oh, I can't have cake?" the older blonde asked teasingly.

Buffy rolled her eyes, calling back in the exact same tone, "Since when do you eat chocolate cake?"

Her mother laughed, "I'll have a piece of pie, and coffee, please."

"Comin' right up," Faith immediately replied, and then Buffy just _knew_ the brunette was actually making shooing motions at the older woman. There was nothing else that could explain the silent amusement and slight exasperation she was feeling from the pair. "Now go make sure our guests don't break anything."

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 6, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head as he, along with all of the adults, watched the two Slayers polish off their dessert plates. They hadn't even tried to conceal how much they were eating by taking small portions! Though Charlie was fairly sure the pair had taken longer then they needed to come out because they'd also had more dessert _before_ they'd brought out the coffee and dessert for everyone else.

"I used to be able to eat like that," Alan shook his head at the bemused looks everyone shot him. "What? I did, occasionally. Though I must confess I wish I still could, that cake looks just as good as the pie, which was fantastic."

"It was delicious, Joyce," Margaret murmured, and both she and her husband received a wide smile from their hostess in return.

"Thank you," Joyce nodded in return, smiling as she raised an eyebrow at them. "I could pack up some of the cake if you'd like?"

Margaret laughed, "That might be a good idea. Otherwise, I'll have to make some myself in the next few days, and without either of our boys home we'd actually have to eat it all." She shook her head at the two younger girls. "I wish I could eat like you two do, but I'd have to kill myself in a gym every day if I wanted to try."

"Oh I know," Joyce agreed, smiling as she rose and started collecting plates and empty mugs from all around. "Isn't it awful?"

"Oh, Joyce," Alan smiled apologetically as their hostess stopped, "I'm sorry, I meant to ask earlier: but you're in the antiques business, aren't you?"

Charlie covered a grin as his mother sighed.

"Oh Alan, you didn't."

"Yes, I am," Joyce confirmed with a smile.

"I have a few pictures in the car, if I left some of them here do you think you could maybe give me some ballpark figures on them. If you wouldn't mind—I used to go to a friend in LA, but he moved out East and—"

"Oh, I don't mind at all," Joyce shook her head, still smiling. "I actually like my job." She nodded towards the door, "If you want to go get them, I could probably give you the ballpark figures right now. Though a real appraisal would obviously take longer."

"Thank you, thank you," Charlie's dad nodded to her, before hurrying off even as his wife rose to firmly help Joyce with the dishes.

"Here, Joyce, let me help you with that," Margaret insisted, taking the last few plates from the teenagers as Buffy and Faith finally finished.

"No that's—"

"I insist. If my husband is going to actually bring work out tonight, the least I can do is help with the dishes."

"Well, Buffy actually wanted him to take a look at the attic later, but..."

As the two women moved off, both Slayers eyes were watching Mr. Eppes as he rummaged through the trunk of his wife's car outside. A vampire attack in a residential area wasn't as likely as it was in Sunnydale's so-called 'downtown' or numerous graveyards, but the sun had set hours ago, so it was possible.

"You want my dad to look at your attic?" Charlie asked, smirking slightly as Annie shrugged.

"Yeah. We wanna turn the basement into a gym, so the stuff that's down there needs to go somewhere. Attic seems like the best place, but mom doesn't think the perfectly stable floor can take it."

"How do you know it's perfectly stable?"

"Well, the house isn't _that_ old, so it should be, shouldn't it?"

"I guess." Charlie shook his head, then fell silent when Annie sent a speculative glance towards the younger Slayer.

"So, any more luck on your Slay-mare?"

Faith blinked, looking away from where Charlie's dad was finally closing the trunk of the car to make his way inside, a lightweight box in his hands, to look at Annie. "Not really," she shrugged. "Hasn't happened again, I think. I haven't woken up, any way."

All three looked towards the door as it opened to admit Alan.

Charlie nodded towards the kitchen. "They're in there."

All three teenagers watched as the older man moved off towards the kitchen, and then silence fell over them again for several moments.

Finally, Faith spoke up. "All I can remember, still, is that some bad things are comin' our way." She shook her head. "Not bad like Kakistos, really, but worse then the nightly-vamp, you know?"

Annie and Charlie both nodded, though the action seemed to confuse the younger Slayer more than reassure her. It took Charlie a moment to figure out why. Logically, he shouldn't understand how the vision made her feel. He wouldn't—if he wasn't feeling it from her right now.

And he did find it rather interesting that, even in Annie's presence, Faith's emotions were still easily detected. Though he'd also noticed that whenever he and Annie were both focused on a specific person, they had no trouble reading them.

"Maybe you should try ranking them."

"Huh?" Both Slayers blinked at the math genius.

Charlie shrugged, "Your, um, Slayer-visions? They tend to be pretty vague and confusing, right?"

"Yeah," Annie replied slowly, while Faith nodded in agreement, though it was obvious neither were completely sure about what he was getting at.

"So maybe you should try ranking your past experiences, so that you'll have something to compare them against? Something like, um, if it's actually a threat to the world—"

"An apocalypse in the making," Annie suggested helpfully.

Charlie nodded, "Yeah, maybe those would always be six and up—or you could give them their own scale. But anything less than that would be five or lower." Seeing that Faith clearly wasn't following quite as well as Annie was, the soon-to-be-professor elaborated. "Like, um, Kakistos was a pretty bad vampire, right? But he wasn't trying to end the world, just targeting you. So he'd be a four or five, right? While a normal vampire might be a two or three."

"And a fledgling would be a one or less?" Faith nodded in understanding, then frowned again. "But what about demons, then?"

"You could rank them on the same scale, or a separate one, it's your choice." The mathematician shrugged, "It's just something you might want to keep track of, because that will help you judge your visions better. Maybe help you understand them."

Annie nodded slowly, "Cause like Faith said, she could sense that what's coming is bad—and there's several baddies—but they're not as bad as Kakistos was."

"Though that may just be because she feels more secure now then when she was fleeing Kakistos, it's still a good basis for analysis." Charlie agreed. "It means that your visions isn't foretelling an apocalypse—" here he stopped to shoot a smirk at Annie, "Which means you can't try to send me home with my parents tonight."

"I wasn't—" Annie started to protest, while Faith grinned, but Charlie ignored them both as he continued.

"So on the massive scale of, uh—"

"Badness?" Faith suggested.

The mathematician winced, but nodded reluctantly. "OK, so on the scale of _badness_, whatever's coming is, at worst, a four, right?"

"Because it'd have to be apocalypse-related to be a six or higher and it's not as bad as Kakistos, who was a five?" Annie asked, head cocked slightly to the side in careful consideration.

"Right," Charlie confirmed, though his eyes were locked on Faith as she thought it through. "Does that help you at all?"

Faith blinked, before nodding quickly. "Uh, yeah. I guess it does." She smiled slightly as she shrugged. "I mean, at least it tells me we can handle what's coming, right? Cause we took care of Kakistos, and this isn't as bad as him."

"Right so—" Charlie stopped abruptly as they heard the familiar voices of their parental trio returning from the kitchen.

"So it is worth looking into, then?" Alan was asking Joyce, while his wife shook her head fondly as she followed both of them.

Joyce laughed, "Of course it is. There really aren't too many tables from that era still around in California today. If it's genuine, it could be worth a lot of money. Maybe not enough to solve all of your friend's troubles, but it should definitely help." She shook her head, then glanced at the teenagers still sitting in the living room. One eyebrow rose as she continued, "You know, when you fall silent just before we come into a room, it kind of makes us wonder what you were talking about."

"Much more than we probably would if you just kept talking," Margaret agreed.

Annie and Charlie blinked at them, but Faith's grinning reply came immediately. "Anybody want to play poker?"

This startled the adults into silence for a moment, before Charlie's mother started shaking her head. "We really do need to get onto the road soon—" she stopped when she met her husband's eyes, one eyebrow shooting up like Joyce's had a few moments before. "You don't want to?"

"You said yourself that you only have two meetings tomorrow. The one that's late in the morning will probably cancel, and the other ones around three in the afternoon." Alan shrugged, "Plus you can always cancel that meeting yourself if they don't."

"I don't—"

"When was the last time you canceled on that jerk?"

"I haven't—"

"And how many times has he canceled on you?" Seeing his wife's expression reluctantly folding at the points, he added. "Plus it'd be a lot easier for me to properly inspect the attic in the morning anyway."

Mrs. Eppes sighed and nodded, turning to Joyce again. "You're sure you won't mind—"

"As long as Charlie doesn't mind spending his first night here on the couch, the guest room's yours." Annie's mom cut her off with a warm smile.

"Actually this couch is very comfortable," Charlie reassured them, earning smiles from all around.

"So I guess we're playin' poker then?" Faith asked, darting over to the bureau that contained the Summers playing cards before she even got a response from any of the others.

Margaret shook her head as she and other two adults claimed seats around the coffee table. "Have you played against Buffy before?" at the surprised look Faith sent her, she explained. "I don't think she and Charlie cheat. But I can't beat either of them."

"Better poker than bridge, though," Alan shuddered, while his wife nodded in agreement as they both glanced at the teenagers in question. "You two are _uncanny_ then."

Annie and Charlie's practically synchronized shrug didn't seem to make the elder Eppes feel better.

And indeed, almost all of the hands went to either Annie or Charlie. Though Faith was able to win a few times. Most of those times, both empaths folded after sensing the younger teen's carefully concealed excitement, but she did manage to beat them a few times on pure luck when they didn't fold. Still, when the clock struck eleven a few hours later, the disgusted adults were very glad they weren't actually playing for money. Because they would have lost a lot. And they were equally glad that neither Buffy or Charlie could legally enter casinos yet. (Because while Charlie was legally old enough to gamble, most casinos wouldn't let anyone under the age of twenty-one enter.)

"You realize this means my mom won't be able to stay up waiting for Faith and I to get back from patrol, don't you?" Annie asked, her tone light as they listened to the adults move around upstairs.

Faith was smirking even as Charlie nodded. "I figured you might like that. Though it does mean you'll have to sneak in and out through your bedroom windows."

"You say that like it's hard," Faith protested with a quiet laugh.

Charlie shook his head, "Please don't let my parents catch you. I'd really rather not try to explain the supernatural to them any time soon."

Annie and Faith both laughed while the blonde replied.

"I've had a lot of practice sneaking out, Charlie. And it's actually easier from Faith's room than it is from mine."

"Be careful, okay?"

Both Slayers smiled at him, bending down to press light kisses on his cheeks before dancing off towards the stairs.

"Night Charlie."

"Sleep tight, C-man."

_6 1 9 2 0 8 __1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' H**__**ouse, Sunnydale, California – Monday, October 7, 1996**_

Faith spun quickly to jab a stake in the back of a retreating vamp, effectively ending the much-too-brief scuffle they'd had with four vamps. The only vamps they'd seen since they started patrol just before midnight, a few hours after Mr. and Mrs. Eppes had gone to sleep.

Seeing that Buffy had taken a few moments more to dust her two, the Faith blinked as she realized that though the elder's slaying-ability clearly wasn't affected by it, the blonde's thoughts were definitely elsewhere.

Deciding to fish a little, Faith arched an eyebrow at the older Slayer, "So? How'd it go?"

Buffy blinked, then rapidly shook her head before turning her gaze towards the amused brunette: effectively confirming the other Slayer's suspicions that the blonde's attention was elsewhere. "Hmm? I'm sorry, what?"

Faith chuckled, deciding a comment about blondes probably wouldn't be the best of things to say right now, and instead elaborated on her question. "The trip to LA? Rich vamp? He's dust now, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy nodded firmly, through her mind still seemed to be focusing on something other than their conversation. And it wasn't their half-hearted patrol. No, her thoughts were turned inward. "Yeah. He was kinda pathetic, actually."

"A vamp that relies on modern technology and human guards, pathetic? Who woulda thought?" Faith grinned at the older Slayer, then shook her head. "So he didn't have much fight in 'im?"

"Not even more then a fledgling," Buffy snorted. "I just threw the stake at him, and he dusted."

"Man. How old was he? That usually only works on newbies."

"I think Giles said he was turned in the fifties or sixties." Buffy sighed, then shrugged. "But maybe he was a rich guy then, too. I mean, he was pretty comfy in his lifestyle."

"So? What's the long face for, then?"

Buffy was quiet for several seconds more before she finally replied. "Have you worked with the Council's, um, 'teams' before?"

"You mean before they came here? No. Why? Were the ones in LA just as bad?"

"No," the blonde shook her head, and sighed again. "No, they seemed to be really good, actually. Very thorough."

"...But?"

Buffy shook her head, "After I dusted Winters, they said there was a meth lab in the basement, and that it'd make clean-up easier. Then we had to go."

Faith cocked her head to the side in slightly confusion, sending a quick glance around them to make sure they were still safe taking here before asking, "Clean up?"

"Yah. They wouldn't tell me what that meant. But one of the teams stayed behind for it, while we left."

"Somethin' happen to them?" Faith asked, still not sure what to make of the older Slayer's discomfort with this clean up issue.

"No. They were fine. They met up with us later, when the first team dropped all of us off at the house."

"But I take it there clean up didn't involve a vacuum and tellin' the cops about the meth lab?"

"N-No. They blew it up."

"Blew—You mean the lab?"

"I guess. But it destroyed the whole mansion. We could see the flames, the wreckage, from miles away."

"Whoa, musta been a pretty big lab. Cause his mansion was huge, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah it was"

Faith nodded, cocking an eyebrow as she persisted in trying to figure out what was bothering her sister Slayer so much. "So what was wrong? Did they leave the security thugs there, or somethin'?"

"I... I don't know. I-I don't think so." Buffy shook her head. "They were supposed to hand them over to the, uh, army, I guess. But I don't know how that worked."

"Huh." The younger Slayer considered that for several long moments, then shook her head. "Well, even if they did die there, B, it's not like they were innocents. They worked for Hell Incorporated, right?"

Buffy nodded, "But they were human. We're supposed to protect them."

Faith shrugged, "Can't save everyone, B. 'Specially those that don't want savin'." She looked around, trying to reach out with her senses again then finally shook her head, sighing as she suggested. "Seems pretty quiet tonight. Wanna head home?"

"Yeah. Sure," Buffy agreed half-heartedly.

As it happened, the graveyard they were in just then was the closest to the Summers' home, so it was only a matter of minutes away. Faster if they felt like running, but B's mind was still back in LA, so Faith didn't think that was the best of ideas.

After a few long moments of silence, the brunette spoke up again. "So what'd C-man think of the Council guys?"

Buffy blinked, frowning slightly before he expression cleared as her mind connected the dots to figure out who Faith was talking about. "Charlie?" she thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know. He seemed to like the guys he spent time with."

"You didn't ask him?"

Again, the older Slayer shrugged, but this time remained silent.

After a few more moments of silence, Faith spoke up again. "You know, before Di, um, before she started home schooling me, I went to public school for a bit." She continued hesitantly, even as she felt the other Slayer's eyes turn to her. "Di had a huge load a classes at Harvard when the Council first told her to take me on, so when she asked if I wanted to keep goin' to the same school, sayin' yes just seemed easier. Crappy place, though. I got suspended a few months later, and that was the first time she actually went into the building there. She was kinda mad at me for not tellin' her."*(5)

"Sounds like she cared about you."

"I guess," Faith shrugged, blinking rapidly for a moment at the memory of the first person who had given a damn about her. "But, um. Anyway, before he suspended me, Principal Martin gave me this whole long lecture on bad apples. Said we just ask for bad things to happen to us. That we kept gettin' stepped on, spit on and skipped over in the line of life because we provoke people." Faith jumped as Buffy's arm suddenly looped through hers, locking at the elbow in what was starting to be a familiar, vaguely comfortable connection.

"Angelus had this whole tirade about choices and consequences," Buffy offered, shrugging slightly when Faith looked at her. "And maybe he was kinda right, but he was twisting the truth to suit him. I'd say your Principal Martin was too."

Faith shrugged again, "Maybe." Then she winced in surprise as Buffy suddenly jabbed a finger into her side. It didn't really hurt, but she wasn't expecting it.

"No, seriously. You're _not_ a bad apple, Faith." Buffy raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't really agree with the Powers That Be's idea of putting the weight of the world on one girl's shoulders, but do you _really_ think they woulda picked you, trusted you with the survival of the human race, if you weren't a good person?"

The younger teen blinked at that, eyes going to the ground in contemplation even as she trusted Buffy to keep their feet moving in the right direction as she considered something she hadn't really thought of before. She looked up as the older Slayer started talking again.

"Still, maybe you're right about some people just being bad. I told Charlie's parents earlier today that I thought bad people usually get what's coming to them. Mostly cause they're really angry that whoever assaulted Charlie was never caught by the cops, and I can't really tell them that Mrs. Eppes probably vacuumed Charlie's attackers up before Charlie and I were even out of the hospital, so... yeah."

Faith chuckled, "So you think bad people usually get what's comin' to them?" she cocked her head to the side. "Maybe bein' the Slayer's some kind of punishment, then? We can't exactly expect long life and happiness, can we?"

"Maybe not long life, though I hope not." Buffy sighed, shaking her head again. Her eyes locked with Faith's again. "So you think I'm a bad person? That my mom is?"

"What? No!" Faith stopped abruptly, pure horror taking over her expression as she rapidly shook her head. "_No!_ 'Course not. Why—"

"You can't say that they made you the Slayer to punish you for something if that wasn't true for me too, Faith. If it's a punishment, they're punishing me and everyone who cares about me, about us, too." Again the older Slayer shook her head. "I don't like that idea. I much prefer to think that we were—unfortunately—somehow worthy of protecting everyone. That they knew we could do it. That we _would_ do it."

"Or die tryin'?" Faith raised an eyebrow as they skirted along the side of the Summers' driveway, she slid to the side so that they could bypass the cars without unlocking their elbows.

"Something like that," Buffy agreed quietly, before nodding as she slipped her elbow out of Faith's hold and crouched down before leaping up to catch the edge of roof, pulling herself up onto the slanted surface with the ease of long practice.

Faith saw the older Slayer glance back even as she pulled herself up onto the roof and moved to her own open window, their movements easily silent thanks to their supernatural abilities. As she slipped inside the window, she nodded in response to the older Slayer's downward gesture. Finally inside she carefully slid the bug screen down—though the spell Willow had tried out a few weeks ago would keep bugs out anyway—and then turned to make her way out of the room. She wasn't to surprised to find Buffy waiting for her at her door.

However, both were a bit surprised when they reached the bottom of the stairs and saw one of the lamps in the living room still on, with their genius-friend typing away on his laptop.

"Hey Charlie, what're you still doing up? It's gotta be after two already."

"Unlike you, I don't have to wake up early to go to school in the morning," Charlie shrugged, smiling softly as he set his portable computer aside. "I told your mom I'd wait, and wake her up if you needed anything. It was the only way I could get her to go to bed at a reasonable time, anyway." He frowned softly, quickly looking both of them over. "You don't need anything, do you? You're both all right?"

Faith felt another unexpected bit of warmth in her chest at the clear concern in his regard and shook her head, more then a little amazed by just how generous he could be, to be so worried about someone he only just met. Even when she was standing right next to B, the Slayer he'd been friends with for months already, his eyes still went to inspect her to. "Five by five, C-man."

Two large, chocolate-brown eyes blinked at her, before his warm smile made the edges crinkle, "I'm, uh, glad you heard me clearly, but that's not quite an answer."

Both Slayers blinked and replied in unison, "Huh?"

Charlie shook his head, still smiling slightly. "That's what that phrase is generally understood to mean, you know. It refers to the signal of a broadcasting radio in NATO countries, where the signal is measured for strength and clarity both scales ranging from one to five. "Five by five" means that the signal is strong and clear, as understandable as it can possibly be. Many cell phones actually still function with the same scales." *(6)

"Huh. I just liked the way it sounds." Faith shrugged after a moment of thought. "I'm fine, thanks for askin'."

"My pleasure," Charlie chuckled, meeting Buffy's eyes for a moment but for some reason not pushing the question with her.

Again Faith kind of got the feeling that the two of them were somehow communicating in a way that she couldn't follow. But then both of then both of them were turning to her with smiles while their visiting genius spoke up.

"Joyce finished baking some chocolate chip cookies a little while ago, if you're hungry."

And all thoughts of secret signals were driven from Faith's head as Buffy's arm slipped out of hers and the two were suddenly racing—on still silent feet—for the kitchen.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California –**__** Monday, **__**October 7, 1996**_

Buffy grinned a little at the sight her friend made, somehow sprawled on the living room couch, which didn't look big enough for that term to be applicable, but somehow the teenage boy managed it. "Charlie... _Charlie_... Time to wake up, Charlie."

Charlie groaned and rolled over so that he was facing the couch, his back to her as he dragged his pillow out from underneath his head to slam it over said head instead.

"Oh come on, Charlie. My mom's making pancakes and I have to leave for—"

"One," the math genius mumbled from beneath the pillow, "you _know_ I don't like pancakes. And two, I'm not going to school with you. Faith and I are meeting you at the library afterwards."

"But Miss Glenn would—"

"Undoubtedly be pleased to meet me, when it _won't_ interfere with her lesson plan. Ask her to meet us outside the library if you want me to meet her so much," Charlie shook his head, sighing tiredly as he swung his legs out of bed, knowing he was too awake now to just fall back asleep.

"OK, I guess. Faith—"

"Will take me to the library this afternoon, yes. We discussed this already."

After a moment, Buffy sighed in mock-surrender. "OK. But your mom wants to leave soon, so you really should get up to say goodbye." She smirked as she turned away and moved back towards the kitchen, where everyone else was gathered for an informal breakfast around the kitchen counter. She and Faith had forfeited the three stools that were by the counter to the adults, perfectly comfortable with finishing their massive stacks of pancakes while on their feet, despite the Eppes' protests.

"If he was up as late as you two think, he's not gonna be getting up any time soon, An—Buffy," Alan offered as the kitchen door swung shut behind her.

Buffy shrugged, knowing he was wrong as she could sense his son grumpily forcing himself to wake up. She suppressed a laugh as she replied, "I think he'll want to say 'bye' to you guys."

"We can wait," Margaret shook her head. "As Alan pointed out last night, Mark cancels on me more often then not. And usually on fairly short notice." She sighed as she glanced towards the clock, which told Buffy that it was almost time for her to leave for school. Especially since the Eppes didn't know she could get there on foot a lot faster than a normal person could. "Though I really don't understand how you two can be up and awake so early, if you were up that late, too."

Faith was grinning as she replied. "We've got our sugar and caffeine, don't we?" she asked, indicating the syrup she'd smothered her pancakes with and her half-finished cup of coffee. Her half-finished, _third_ cup of coffee.

Everyone turned towards the door as Charlie came into the kitchen, rubbing blearily at his eyes.

Buffy smirked as she moved over to the coffee pot to acquire her peace offering. A spoonful of sugar, a little milk and coffee, coffee, coffee. She nodded in thanks to her mother as the older blonde directed the only-just-awake-Charlie to the formerly occupied stool, and set his coffee cup in front of him.

It took several sips of coffee to manage it, but after several long moments of sipping, Charlie finally woke up enough to look around. And blinked as he saw everyone was watching him.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Margaret broke the silence, smiling at her clearly exhausted son even though she was clearly very surprised he was actually up at all.

Honestly, Buffy was a bit surprised too. But now that she thought about it, Charlie didn't seem to need as much sleep as either of his parents did. Not for as long as Buffy had known him anyway. He still needed more sleep than she and Faith did, but he was able to stay awake longer and wake up a lot sooner, operating on much less sleep than was considered normal.

Possibly another side-effect of their bond? Or just more changes made by the Slayer-blood that had flown through his veins for an indeterminate amount of time, potentially changing more then they'd initially realized...

Buffy blinked as a faint wave of curiosity hit her, and glanced over at Charlie to see that he was watching her even as everyone else kept chatting away around them, apparently having overcome the surprise at Charlie being awake and semi-functioning at the early hour. After a second of thought she shook her head and mouthed 'later', towards him.

Charlie blinked, but then nodded and picked up one of the pieces of toast from the plate that had appeared in front of him—undoubtedly her mother's doing, since Charlie's mother was still sitting down and enjoying her own breakfast while Joyce Summers had finished hers and was puttering around the kitchen—while Buffy was thinking.

Glancing at the clock again, Buffy sighed. Normally she wouldn't even bother leaving for another ten or fifteen minutes, but...

"Well, I've got to get goin'." Buffy spoke up loudly enough for everyone else to hear. She moved quickly over to the two Eppes, drawing both into welcomed hugs, "Drive safe, okay?"

"Of course, Annie." Margaret favored her with a warm smile, which was echoed on her husband's face.

"And even if you don't plan on going to school in LA next year, you should come visit us as much as possible. All of you should," Alan nodded to include Faith and Joyce. "It'd give us an excuse to try some of our bigger recipes."

"I'd like that," Buffy agreed, smiling as she leaned out into the dining room to pick her bag up off the floor, before making her way to the kitchen door. "Bye."

"Have a good day, honey," her mom called after her, and Faith followed suit.

"See ya later, B."

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 __0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Monday, October 7, 1996**_

Charlie sighed after several moments of silence. Apparently Faith wasn't going to start talking—despite the questions he could sense simmering behind her curious stare—so he'd have to open the conversation. "Can I help you with something, Faith?" he asked, keeping his tone light and not looking up from his notebook, pencil still whirling through calculations even as he sensed the Slayer start.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Am I bothering you?"

"Not really," the mathematician half-truthed.

He wasn't really bothered, per say. But it was hard to work with the younger teen staring at him and radiating curiosity just as clearly as if she was shouting questions at him. Not that he could blame her. She didn't know that he couldn't not sense her emotions.

"But you've been sitting there for a while. Watching me," Charlie finished with a gentle smile, hoping that'd be enough to offset her nervousness.

Instead it seemed to embarrass her, because although it was only just visible in her eyes, the self-doubt that was suddenly clashing with her curiosity was a bit bewildering considering how the girl usually acted.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," the brunette offered, shaking her head. "I was trying to figure out what you were doing."

"You could just ask."

"You looked busy," Faith shrugged. "Didn't want to bother you."

"I'm not bothered," Charlie told her, though he was a little exasperated at having to repeat that fact again. "Besides, I'm going into teaching, remember? Annie thinks I need to get used to being interrupted. I'm surprised she didn't tell you to, actually."

"Why do you call her that?" Faith asked, her head tilting as she took them off on a tangent. "She's never said."

Charlie blinked, then his quick mind made the connection, "Oh, Annie?" he shook his head. "That's what she wanted me to call her this summer, and I think she likes to be reminded of her time staying with us..." then he shrugged. "And it's what I'm used to."

"Oh. So it's not that you just prefer her middle name over her first name?"

"No. Though I'm not sure what Joyce was thinking when she named her daughter."

"Mrs. S told me it was her favorite aunt's nickname, and Aunt Buffy died just a few months before little B was born, so..." Faith grimaced, but otherwise didn't give any outward sign about the dark turn her emotions were taking as she continued. "Better than my back story, anyway. My mom just told the doc that delivered me to pick a name for her."

Charlie winced at the bitter resentment he could sense stirring in the Slayer. "It's a pretty name," he offered gently, and suddenly the anger vanished. To be replaced by embarrassment again.

"Thanks," the younger teen nodded slightly, her cheeks definitely turning a little pink for a moment, then she was shaking her head and raising her eyes to meet his again. "We should get going soon. B's last class gets out around one-thirty,"

And a glanced at the wall confirmed she was right about needing to go, then. Since it was already five past one.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5__ 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Monday, October 10, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as Willow babbled on. It was hard to be annoyed with the redhead, since she was so obviously nervous about meeting Charlie, which was why she'd tried to compensate by researching him. But the Slayer had lived with the math-genius for months, so she already _knew_ everything Willow had found.

"And he started high school when he was _ten_. He joined the sophomore class then, and graduated when he was _thirteen_ before going to Princeton. He was _fourteen_ when he published his first important paper, in the spring of his Freshman year." Willow was frowning slightly as she shook her head. "But Oz and I couldn't find out why he joined the tenth grade and spent the full three years in high school, though. I mean, he probably could've skipped them, he shot right through college, but maybe his parents—"

"He didn't want to graduate before his brother."

Willow blinked, "Huh?"

"Charlie's brother, Don Eppes, is five years older than him. They graduated high school on the same day. The school had wanted him to graduate early, he probably could have finished high school in half the time, but he didn't want to graduate before Don. Even though Don didn't really like going to school with him, Charlie wanted to. So he did."

"He graduated with his brother?" Xander asked incredulously, shaking his head. "That's gotta put a weird twist on the whole sibling rivalry thing."

Buffy shrugged, "As far as I can tell, Don's pretty smart. I mean he's an FBI agent so he has to be of fairly high intelligence, right? And their parents are smart people, too, so it makes sense." Then she shook her head, "And while I'm sure they have some kind of sibling rivalry stuff between them, I really don't think Don could ever make the mistake of trying to out-do Charlie at math."

"Why? I mean, if his kid brother's good at it—"

"That's the thing, Xander. He's not just 'good,' at it. He practically lives and breathes it. He can see _everything_ in numbers and patterns. Says math can apply to everything, but he actually sees it without looking for it most of the time." Buffy shook her head.

"Yes, from what I understand, Dr. Eppes is a highly skilled mathematician," Giles put in when his Slayer paused. "Truly, the work he did to help us was probably elementary to him. I doubt it took him long at all. Once he'd gathered the necessary data."

"Why?"

This time Willow answered Xander's question, while Giles read the information on a card from the library's catalogue before disappearing into the stacks. "Because we could follow it, Xander."

Xander frowned a little, "We could?"

"If you paid attention in math class more, you could. I mean, some of the variables he threw in I had to research to understand, but I could have done the basics myself." Willow shook her head, "I mean, the basic point was that wolf-Oz can only travel so fast, which mean he couldn't have gotten from point A to point B in between the time I left and when Orkin was attacked. That's high school math. Before he threw a bunch of other variables that I didn't quite get in."

"At least you could figure it out," Xander shook his head. "Looked like gibberish to me. Though, obviously I liked the results." He paused for a moment, before frowning at Buffy. "Isn't he a little old for you, though?"

Buffy blinked, honestly startled. "Huh?"

"I mean, obviously he's not as old as Angel, which is good, but he's a college professor, so—"

"Xander," Oz cut him off. "He's my age."

The other boy blinked, "B-But he's a college teacher, right? So—"

"He was a genius, _child_-prodigy," Willow cut him off this time, shaking her head. "He got his doctorate when he was seventeen. That was two years ago. So he's only a year older than Buffy."

"Why does that matter?" Buffy shook her head in confusion, cocking her head to the side when everyone looked at her. "Even if he was a few years older than us, I could still be friends with him. I mean, Giles is a lot older than us and he's our friend."

"Well, yeah, but you wouldn't say Giles is in our dating pool, would you? No offense," Xander finished quickly, when Giles came out of the stacks with a new book in hand.

"None taken," the Englishman shook his head, clearly amused by the turn in the conversation. "Though I do not believe Buffy and Dr. Eppes are, um, dating."

Buffy started. "Dating?! Charlie? What—" She shook her head in confusion, "Why would you think—We're not dating. We're just friends. Really good friends, but—"

"You're not dating?" Willow blinked at her, shaking her head at Buffy's amazed look. "Really?"

"Then why all the secrecy?" Xander asked, still obviously confused. "If he's just a super-smart guy-shaped version of Willow?"

"You guys haven't wanted to talk about my time in LA, and that's when I met him, so—"

Buffy stopped, her eyes going heavenward in thanks a moment before the library doors finally swung open to admit Faith and Charlie. Though she frowned as she took note of the clear embarrassment she could sense from Charlie, which was probably why Faith was laughing.

"Sorry we're late, B," Faith shook her head after a few more laughs, strolling over to the table to drop into one of the empty chairs, deliberately leaving the empty one by Buffy free. "Apparently your boy here has some fans."

"I don't—" Charlie shook his head, frowning at Faith as a distinct note of displeasure came across their bond in the wake of the strange relief he'd been feeling a few seconds earlier as they came through the doors. "Mrs. Stevenson isn't—"

"She asked for your autograph, Charlie." Faith smirked at his exasperated look even as she started ticking her points off on one hand. "Then she wanted a picture. _Then_ she followed us halfway here. And if that other teacher hadn't distracted her, she probably would've followed us all the way here." That finished, the brunette waved her hand, still clearly amused. "So I think we can label her a fan girl. Or a math-groupie, if that floats your boat better."

"_Mrs. Stevenson_ asked for your autograph?" Xander interrupted, a clear note of disbelief in his voice. Then, without waiting for Charlie to respond, he turned to Willow. "Is he really that famous? I mean I've never heard—"

As Willow looked about ready to bite their friend's head off, Giles apparently decided it was a good idea to intervene. "I doubt you pay attention to the circles Dr. Eppes is renowned in, Xander. Other than myself, I don't believe you know anyone of the higher academic circles, and my specialty obviously has nothing to do with mathematics. Which is entirely besides the point," the older man shook his head as he moved towards Charlie, who had just put his bad down next to the chair beside Buffy. "Good afternoon, Dr. Eppes. I'm Dr. Rupert Giles. We spoke not too long ago on the telephone."

"I remember," Charlie replied, making an obvious effort to warm up to the watcher even as he shook off his surprise from his earlier encounter. "It's nice to finally meet you in person. And please, call me Charlie."

"Isn't Mrs. Stevenson, like, seventy or sixty—"

"Xander!" Willow snapped, shaking her head when he looked at her. Then she, too, turned her attention to Charlie. Shooting to her feet to reach out and start shaking his hand. "Hi Dr. Eppes, I'm Willow. Willow Rosenberg. I tried to read some of your work after Buffy told us about you. I think I understood some of it, but a lot of it is kinda beyond what I've been studying in math. I've been focusing on magic and how it ties into science more, since I met Buffy. Though I'm still pretty good with computers. I wanted to read your work more because of the work you did to help Oz, which I can't thank you enough for. He's my boyfriend, you know. So thank you, for helping him, I mean. And—"

"Willow, _breathe_." Buffy cut in with a smile, shaking her head a little as the redhead shot her a surprised look. "And Charlie might want his hand back some time soon."

The redhead quickly released Charlie's hand as she obediently took a deep breath, then frowned at her boyfriend while she moved back to her seat. "You're supposed to stop me when I babble."

Oz shrugged, smiling slightly as he rose. "I like watching you babble, it's cute." He extended his hand towards Charlie before his girlfriend could reply. "Hi Dr. Eppes, I'm Oz. And like Willow said," He continued as they slowly shook hands, "Thanks."

"I'm glad I could help," Charlie offered in return. "And it's nice to meet both of you. But please, call me Charlie. That's for everybody. I'm not even a teacher yet."

"You start teaching at the _California Institute of Science_ this spring, don't you?" Willow asked, shrugging slightly when everyone looked at her. "I Googled* his name, and _CalSci_ was advertising." (7)

"They are?"

Willow blinked at the math-genius. "You didn't know?"

Charlie looked at her for a moment, before slowly asking, "When you say advertising, do you mean an announcement, or—"

"Yeah, there was an announcement on their homepage. And in just about every major newspaper in the country. It's in a lot of the chat rooms for high school students that are looking into college now too."

At the lost feeling she was starting to sense from her curly-haired friend, Buffy spoke up quickly. "But that just means most of your students will know you deserve to be teaching them, Charlie. Cause they'll be smart people like Willow, who know about these chat rooms and news articles and stuff." She blinked when Charlie, Willow and Giles all shot her identical looks.

"You're smart too, An—Buffy. We talked about that already, remember?" Charlie shook his head. "You can do things—completely unrelated to your superpowers—that I'm not remotely capable of."

Before anyone could respond to that the doors to the library swung open again and everyone looked up to see Cordelia walking in.

"Oh, Charlie this is Cordelia Chase. She's Xander's girlfriend." Buffy spoke up quickly, seizing the diversion to move away from the former topic—and unknowingly proving Charlie's point in the process. As she was much better at thinking quickly on her feet, diversions and similar tactics, then the math genius was sure he could ever hope to be. "Xander's the other guy here, hiding behind Oz, who hasn't introduced himself yet. Cordy, this Charlie Eppes."

"The math guy, right? By the way, I _love_ your hair." Cordelia smiled brightly as she shook Charlie's hand, before moving off to sit by her boyfriend. "Say 'hi', Xander."

"Sorry, I'm still trying to get the picture of Mrs. Stevenson chasing you down the hallway out of my head. She's one of the strictest teachers in the school and she's been here forever." Xander finally rose, shaking his head as he extended his hand across the table. "I'm Alexander Harris. Friends call me Xander."

"It's nice to meet you, Xander. And Cordelia." Charlie nodded to both of them, before sitting down again, smiling as Buffy shifted her position a little so that she could comfortably hold his hand.

After a moment of silence, Xander spoke up again. "You're _really_ not dating?"

_6 1 9 2 0 8 __1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California –**__** Friday, October 10, 1996**_

Faith sighed, shaking her head in annoyance. "Pretty quiet tonight, ain't it?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Buffy replied with a laugh.

"Well it is, isn't it?" Faith grumbled. "I mean, yeah, it's good we won't be bruised or banged up for the dance. But you said yourself that if we wanna not patrol tomorrow, we should patrol more tonight. And so far we've seen a grand total of three vamps."

"Four."

The brunette wrinkled her nose a little as she thought back on their patrol thus far, then shook her head. "Four?"

"Yeah. I got three at the Bronze. Though they might as well have counted as one altogether."

"Yeah, the Bronzer I got sucked, too." The younger Slayer agreed, before shooting her elder a sidelong glance. "Again, emphasizing the fact that the vamps we have seen tonight were all at the Bronze. So _why_ are we wandering around Sunnydale's cemeteries for the fifth time tonight?"

"Vamps are occasionally inconsiderate enough to pass through areas we've already covered, remember?"

"Yeah, that's why C-man, Red, X-man and Wolfy—"

"Please tell me you don't call Oz that to his face."

"Of course not." In response to the skeptical look on the blonde's face, she continued, "Really, I don't."

After a moment, Buffy sighed. "Yeah. That's part of the reason they're doing that perfume...thing."

"Think it'll work?"

"Don't know," Buffy shrugged, then added curiously. "What'd you think about the computer program?"

"The one C-man and Red are working on?"

"With Giles, yeah," Buffy added, before laughing at the bemused look that Faith immediately sent her. "Though he's probably not doing much more then acting like sounding-board-guy."

"He's good at that."

"Yeah, he is." The older Slayer agreed again with a nod. "And their program is basically supposed to do what has always been the Watchers most important job."

"Watchin' the vamps. Helping us keep track of them and fight them."

"And demons, yeah."

"Not sure I get how a computer's s'posed to do that for us, but I guess we should take any help we can get, right?"

Buffy nodded, then suddenly shook her head. "No—well, yes, we can use all the help we can get, but the programs more than that. I mean, just think about it. All the work they do tracking vamp activity—if Charlie and Willow can actually get all of that fit into a program, a program that'll tell us not just when and were new vamps'll rise, but where vamps really are based on their kills. Kills that all the law enforcement agencies around the world keep track of, even if they can't stop or find justice for them. That program will tell us where we're really needed."

"And the Watchers are just gonna ask the police to start telling them about people being killed with barbeque forks? I can't see that working in Sunnydale—let alone anywhere else."

Buffy grinned, "That's why it's a good things we've got Wills. Charlie says she's a wicked good hacker-girl."

Faith gave that several seconds more thought then she'd given any of the earlier bits of information, before responding slowly. "She's gonna hack into the government's computers? She can do that?"

"Yeah, I guess she's been doin' stuff like that for a while. Just lookin' at stuff, though. It's not like Wills would hurt anyone."

"No, but... couldn't she get busted for that?"

"Huh?"

"If the cops catch her, they'll arrest her. Throw her in jail, right?"

Buffy sighed, "Probably. But Wills is really good. And she's a witch, too."

"What's that got to do with anything? I thought she just dabbled?"

"She's getting into more magic now. Especially since Charlie's put her in touch with a bunch of the coven members in LA." Buffy shook her head. "I think that's part of the reason she's really started thinking about applying to _CalSci_."

"She does like listenin' to C-man. Course it helps that he's cute." At the sharp look the blonde sent her way for saying that, she laughed. "What? He is. 'Specially when he really gets goin' in his math-mode."

"Math-mode?"

"Well what'd you call it when he's obviously not with us, too busy thinkin' up something brilliant?" Both girls chuckled for a moment, then Faith shook her head. "So, Red's gonna use mojo to help her hack into the government computers and—what exactly?"

Buffy sighed. "Wills has kinda been doin' this on a small scale for a while. She says that the cop's all log their data from crimes—especially how the vic was killed—in a federal database*. Probably to help the feds watch out for serial killers, or something like that." (8)

"And vamps gotta qualify as serials."

"Exactly. Whatever it is that makes normal people ignore the supernatural obviously effects the cops, and the feds. So they don't make the connection. But all the information for the victims are still put into the system*." (8)

Faith nodded, as better understanding dawned. "So if Red can hack that, their program can go through it all to find the vics of the supernatural?"

"Yeah," the older Slayer nodded. "And she's gonna try to combine that with hacking the stuff for Missing Persons—"

"Cause that's another sign of vamps and demons, got'ch'ya." The brunette cocked her head to the side even as she deftly swung the cemeteries gate open, holding it for her friend before closing it just as easily. A feat only a Slayer could handle, considering how heavy the thing was. "But ain't all of that stuff wicked protected? Secure networks, and all that?"

"Willow thinks she can handle it," Buffy shook her head again, pausing suddenly and holding a hand up as she listened carefully for a moment, before shaking her head and starting off again. They did that occasionally, and sometimes it led to pursuit of another vamp or demon. More often then not, though, they just kept patrolling. "And obviously it'll give us a lot more info then the Watchers have been able to get from the newspapers and stuff. Charlie says something like this wouldn't have been possible even a decade ago—all of this wasn't as computerized as it is now."

"But all of the law-people are moving into the modern age with us, so it should work?"

Buffy shrugged, "We definitely hope so." Then she stopped suddenly and stamped one foot in frustration. "Where the hell is everyone tonight?!"

Faith laughed, "Probably gettin' ready for the dance." She held her hands up in surrender as they older Slayer shot her a glare. "Maybe the vamps realized we'd be hittin' them harder tonight and decided to lay low?" She shrugged and shook her head. "Can't really tell, B. But it was quiet last night too."

"Yeah, I know." Buffy sighed, shaking her head again. "Is it really too much to ask that we be allowed to enjoy one nice—demon-free—night?"

"Well Debs' and the other mojo-girls from LA already put a bunch of protection spells around the Bronze, day before last. That's why the vamps we got 'round there couldn't get in. So the dance itself should be safe, right?"

"I hope so."

After a moment of silence, Faith shook her head again. "We've already been over the whole town ten times, B," she glanced at her watch and shook her head again. "And it's almost four in the morning. Why don't we call it a ni—?"

She was cut off by the sound of a scream tearing through the night—or, more accurately, early morning—air.

Shaking her head, the younger Slayer took off after the elder, muttering "Figures," before she lowered her head and laid on the speed.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 __0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 10, 1996**_

"Charlie, girls tend to take a while getting ready for stuff like this." Joyce Summers shook her head, smiling slightly as she set a mug full of hot chocolate down in front of the young genius.

"I know," Charlie sighed. "But they've been up there for hours."

"The limo won't be here until five-thirty, right? And the dance doesn't start till six, so they still have time. Drink your cocoa."

"Yes, ma'am," the mathematician obediently began sipping at the hot, chocolaty beverage. It'd kind of surprised him, how easily he'd gotten along with Annie's mom. But then, the older woman was so much like her daughter—and, in other ways, so similar to his own mother—that it was hard not to.

It'd certainly helped that his parents obviously loved her too. Though both he and Annie had easily been able to sense their confusion on that matter. What with Annie running away from home just a few months before, and not wanting to go back, they hadn't been expecting a woman as wonderful as Joyce Summers to be here. And she, Annie and Faith were obviously getting along fabulously, so the question going through their minds was: why did Annie runaway?

They knew Annie well enough to know that she really wasn't the kind of person to run from her problems. But that was what she'd done. And the problems she'd been running from weren't things his parents could know about. So they'd been left confused on the matter even as they left the next morning.

The familiar sound of his ringing cell phone drew Charlie out of his thoughts, and he looked around a little frantically as he tried to remember where he'd placed it to charge several hours before.

"Here ya go," Joyce was smiling as she handed him the briefly missed devise.

"Thanks," he nodded to her before flipping his phone open, "Charles Eppes."

"_Hey Buddy._"

Charlie blinked in surprise, then a smile slowly spread across his face. "Don?"

"_What, does someone else call you that?_" His older brother joked lightly, before continuing, "_Yeah, it's me. How're you doin'?_"

"Fine. Great, actually." Charlie shook his head, his smile getting a little bigger. "I'm just waiting for Annie and Faith to finish getting ready for the dance." He nodded to Annie's mom again as he watched her slip out of the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

"_Yeah, mom said you were going to Annie's homecoming dance. Faith a friend of hers?_"

"Umm, yeah. Well, they're more like sisters, actually, but—" Charlie shook his head abruptly and asked, "Is everything all right, Don?"

Don sighed over the phone, before replying slowly. "_This dance, where is it?_"

Charlie blinked again, "Um, a place called _The Bronze_. Annie said they rented the club for the night, because they didn't want to have the dance in the school gym. What—"

"_Wait._" Don cut him off abruptly, a sharp note of worry entering his voice. "_The Bronze?_

_This __is__ in Sunnydale?_"

And again, Charlie blinked in surprise, "Yeah, it is. That's where Annie lives. What does—"

"_You shouldn't go._"

At that, Charlie had to blink several times before he could muster a reply. "What?"

"_Don't go to the dance tonight, Charlie. Take Annie and, um, Faith I guess, out somewhere nice and—_"

Charlie cut him off, a bit of outrage seeping into his tone as his incredulousness gave way to aggravation. "Don, we already have the tickets, rented the limo, I'm wearing a tuxedo and Annie and Faith have spent the last three—no, four—hours getting ready for this dance. During which time I've all but been banished from the upstairs." He shook his head, "I can't just call it off. Annie and Faith have really been looking forward to it. I've been looking forward to it. You know I didn't enjoy any of our high school dances. Why would you—"

"_I know, Buddy,_" his brother cut him off, and the sincere notes of worry and regret in his tone made Charlie stop to listen. "_But there was a prison break at Kern Valley two days ago._"

"...And what does that have to do with whether I can go to a school dance or not?"

"_Four lifers* got out. Billy and I are trackin' 'em. We caught one in Ventura. He said two of the others are headed towards Sunnydale._"

Charlie shook his head, "So? It's not like they'll be going to the Sunnydale High Homecoming Dance, Don."

"_Charlie, Sunnydale's not that big a town. And The Bronze—that's where the dance is, right?—is the only major club there._" He could clearly hear the frustration seeping into his brother's tone, not quite managing to hide the worry that was lingering in the background. "_We're not even sure on why they're headed there. But the guy we caught thinks they're responding to a hit that was put out on someone there. He thinks it's a teenage girl, and that there's a lot of money involved. That's why two of the others are going there first, instead of just running for the border._"

Charlie shook his head, though he really didn't like where this was going. "So—"

"_So most of the teenage girls in Sunnydale are gonna be at this dance, right? They might attack there! Billy and I are on our way with another team and the local LEO's are staking out the club, but—_"

"So it should be perfectly safe for me to go."

"_Charlie—_"

"Annie's really been looking forward to this, and I am _**not**_ going to ruin it for her," Charlie shook his head, glaring ahead of him as though his brother was standing there. "It's not like they're after me, or anything." Years of experience at being the baby brother—rather than his empathetic senses, which really only worked with Annie at long distance—had him quickly finishing the call before Don could really get going. "I'll see you later tonight, okay?"

"_Charlie—_"

"Bye Don." The genius hit the 'end' button on his phone, then pressed it down until it shut off. With a sigh, he slipped the phone into his pocket before finishing off his lukewarm hot cocoa and putting the empty cup in the sink and heading out of the kitchen.

He found Joyce Summers waiting in the living room, comfortably ensconced in recliner with her current book open. She glanced up as he came in, smiled, and slipped her bookmark into the novel before setting it aside.

"How's your brother doing?" Joyce asked, cocking her head to the side slightly in friendly curiosity, the familiar motion he was used to seeing Annie use making him smile slightly. "He call to wish you luck or tease you?"

"Uh, yeah," Charlie nodded slowly as he dropped down onto the couch. "Something like that."

Joyce chuckled, "I hear big brothers can be a pain sometimes," she jerked her head towards the stairs. "I'm only just getting used to handling those two, together all the time. And they didn't even grow up together."

"Yeah, Don teases me. But he can be a bit overprotective sometimes too."

"Well," Joyce shook her head. "I never had any older siblings, I'm afraid. All that Buffy has for aunts and uncles on my side of the family are really my cousins and their parents. But isn't that a big-brother's prerogative?"

"I guess," Charlie shook his head.

"What's he being over protective about this evening?"

Charlie glanced down for a moment, then looked up again as he replied. "He doesn't want us to go to the dance."

"What?" Joyce blinked at him, then a deep frown overtook her face. "Is the FBI—"

"He's tracking a bunch of convicts through Ventura. He thinks they might be coming through Sunnydale."

"Convicts?" That didn't seem to reassure her much. "Human convicts?"

"Yeah. They broke out of _North Kern Prison_." Charlie thought about telling her about the supposed hit they were coming to Sunnydale for, but then shook his head. There were other teenage girls in Sunnydale, it didn't do anyone any good jumping to conclusions and it would only make her worry. "But they already caught one in Ventura."

"Oh...that's good. But why are they coming to Sunnydale?" Joyce shook her head again. "It's not like they can disappear here. Most of the people that do vanish are taken by the vampires and demons. And the police don't pay attention to that anyway."

"Yeah, I—" Charlie stopped as a sudden rush of excitement shot across his bond with Annie and turned towards the stairs just in time to see the two Slayers reach the bottom. He rose at the same time Joyce did, but stayed in place as Annie's mother moved around him, two cameras in hand. His mothers and her own.

Both were wearing long formal gowns that flowed all the way down to their ankles. Faith's was mostly black, but had a shimmery-blue-look to it when she moved. Annie's dress was almost identical, except the base color was a pale blue and it seemed to shimmer a glittery silver hue.

"Oh, you two look beautiful. Here, Charlie, come over here so I can take your pictures—"

"Mom, you know they do this at the dance, too, right?"

"Parents are entitled to their own candids, also, Buffy." Joyce primly informed her daughter, while continuing to wave Charlie over and then positioning him between the two girls.

"You want the stairs as bac—"

"Smile!"

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_**In The Moving Limousine, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 10, 1996**_

Buffy tilted her head a little to the side as she regarded Charlie, who after several days of practice was doing a lot better at handling Faith's fairly gentle teasing. "You OK, Charlie?"

Both of her friends stopped to look at her.

"Huh?"

Buffy shrugged, "I don't know. You seemed worried earlier." They really should tell at least Faith and her mom about the bond. If not all the Scoobies. But she hadn't yet thought of a good way to open the topic. Let alone explain the whole thing.

"Oh, sorry." Charlie shook his head, looking a little sheepish. "My brother called a few minutes before you came down. He was kind of giving me a hard time."

"You want us ta beat him up later?" Faith offered, grinning when both of the older teens turned incredulous looks towards her. "What?"

"He's an FBI agent," Charlie pointed out slowly.

"Yeah. So if B and I get dressed up in skin-tight black outfits that don't hide our gender, with gloves and masks and everything we can beat him up."

"How do you figure that?" Buffy asked, smirking slightly even as she suppressed a giggle at Charlie's bewilderment, which she felt over their bond but could just as clearly see on his face.

"He's a big, tough guy, right?" Faith raised an eyebrow at Charlie. "Probably works out a lot, and he's got some training in how ta fight, yeah?"

"Um, yeah. I-I guess."

"So do you really think he'd report getting beat up by two girls? Especially since I'm only a little bigger than B, here, and we'd have no trouble overpowering him?"

Charlie blinked again at that while Buffy finally started snickering.

"I think that might count as an abuse of our powers, Faith," she pointed out quietly. Mindful of the limo driver, who supposedly couldn't here them through the dark screen that was up, but you could never be too careful.

"Well, yeah, but—"

"I don't want you to beat up my brother," Charlie finally put in, shaking his head. "I happen to like him," he pointed out, then rethought the statement and quickly added, "Most of the time."

Both Slayers laughed, wide smiles lighting up their faces as their laughter filled the limo.

As their amusement finally faded a bit, and Buffy spoke up again, raising an eyebrow at her best friend as she did so. "So what was Don being all over-protector about?" She couldn't stop her eyes from narrowing a bit as Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "Charlie?"

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 __0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**In Moving Limousine, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 10, 1996**_

Charlie sighed, and shook his head. "He and his partner are tracking some escaped convicts. And they think they're coming to Sunnydale, if they're not already here."

"Wait," Faith was frowning at them. "Why's he trackin' them?"

"He's in fugitive recovery."

Faith blinked, "I thought you said he was in the FBI. Don't they catch, like kidnappers and bank robbers?"

"No. Well, yes the FBI does do that, but Don is actually assigned to Fugitive Recovery, and escaped prisoners is something that he works on, even if it's from a state prison."

He's a cop?"

"Oh," Faith thought about that for a second, then shrugged. "OK, I'll try not to hold that against him if we ever meet." She raised an eyebrow at Charlie, "Are we? Gonna meet 'im?"

"Um, I don't know. I guess. He'll be in Sunnydale but," Charlie shook his head a bit sheepishly, his cheeks warming a little when both girls chuckled. "He didn't want us to go to the dance, since that might be where the convicts are headed—"

"Why would they go to _The Bronze_?" Faith interrupted, while Annie just frowned her displeasure. "I'd think they'd be high-tailing it for Mexico if they wanted to avoid goin' back to prison."

"Well, Don says most criminals really aren't that smart, but," Charlie wetted his lips, "they might be here hunting someone."

"Hunting someone?" Annie asked, one eyebrow arching up again. "Who?"

"They caught one of the four guys, that's how they know they're coming here. I guess someone helped them break out and now they're supposed to kill someone in Sunnydale." Charlie bit his lip at the angry expressions that immediately overtook the Slayers faces.

"I don't like the sound of that," Faith muttered darkly.

"Me neither," Annie agreed, shaking her head. "Specially with the Slay-mares you've been having."

Charlie blinked, sheepishness giving way to real concern, "Slay-mares? You mean those dream-vision things you get?" He shook his head, "But they're human. I didn't think—"

"We've already seen that demons can hire human-thugs," Faith pointed out. Before frowning as she called up towards the driver. "Hey! We really didn't want the scenic route, we kinda just want to get there." At the amused looks the two older teens were sending her, she shook her head. "What? Even with C-man we woulda been at the Bronze faster on foot. He's gotta be drivin' us all over the town, or something."

Annie opened her mouth to respond, but stopped as the car came to a halt. "Well, looks like we're here." She sighed as they heard the driver's door open and shut. "I guess we'll talk about this later, OK? I mean, it's not like they'll attack us at the dance, right?" she glanced at Charlie. "If the FBI knows already, they'll probably have it protected somehow?"

"I think so," Charlie agreed, then frowned as the distinct sound of running feet, running feet moving away from the limo was heard.

"Weird," Faith shook her head. "Aren't they usually s'posed to let us out?" She glanced at Charlie, "I really hope you got a discount or something for this."

Charlie shrugged even as he hesitantly followed Annie out her side of the limo, while Faith exited on the other side. They paused, looking around in confusion as they found themselves in the middle of a heavily wooded area rather than Sunnydale's very small downtown.

"What the hell?" Faith muttered, even as she circled the limo to come up beside them.

A pang of worry along their bond made Charlie look at Annie, and then follow her gaze as she spoke.

"What's massively wrong with this picture?" Annie asked, staring at a small television set up that was set up on big boulder, obviously plugged into some kind of big battery.

Wetting his lips again, Charlie hesitantly followed the two Slayers over to the small setup of modern technology in the middle of nowhere. As they walked around to the front of the TV, they could see a VCR off to the side, with a big yellow sign that bore the words '_**PRESS PLAY**_' in capital letters.

Annie stepped forward and did so, before stepping back so that she and Faith were both flanking him again even as a black man in a bright red suit came on the screen.

"_Hello, ladies. Welcome to SlayerFest'96._"

Charlie sensed both Slayers stiffen and look at each other, but kept his own eyes fixed on the man in the monitor.

"_What is a SlayerFest, you ask? Well, as in most of life, there's the hunters and the hunted. Can you guess where you two fall? From the beginning of this tape, you have thirty seconds—_" he glanced at his watch and shook his head, "_no, that's seventeen now—to run for your lives. Faith. Buffy._" He nodded on each name, as though he was really talking to them, and his smile actually widened into a creepy impression of Batman's arch-nemesis. "_Have a nice death._"

Then the picture faded to black, replaced by a word appearing in red and white: _**SlayerFest**_, but it also faded away a moment later.

After a second of silence Faith summarized all of their thoughts in one not-so-eloquent word: "_Shit._"

**

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**

End of

_**Chapter 8: Mortal Peril – Part III.**_**

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**

AN: Yay! I got to use the cliffhanger I wanted. A little childish, I know. But I have to keep my muses happy. :-D (Otherwise they might runaway and hide. That'd be bad. Very bad.)

**Sorry, but this is the part I actually ****wanted**** a chapter to stop at in **_**Mortal Peril**_**. Plus I'm well-over my self-imposed pages-per-chapter-limit (I almost doubled it, actually), so **_**Mortal Peril**_** is officially a four-part piece.**

**Hope that doesn't bother any one. **

**OK, first off I'm going to explain why this chapter took a bit longer than normal. One, you'll notice that it's rather long. That was part of it. Then there's the end of this school semester. Final papers. Final projects. Final exams. Ugh. _**

**I also started Charlie's research into the history of the Slayers, and as part of that I had to make a LOT of it up. Essentially, I spent about two weeks figuring out just how many Slayers the Council had known about/worked with. How might the Slayer line have jumped around? Even in canon they weren't all Called in the same area, so logically there has to be a specific reason they were Called. So that meant Slayers from different countries. So I figured out their origins, when they were Called, etc. Then I named ALL of them... and that took FOREVER. I realize I was probably being massively over-organized, but in the long run this will help me write about Charlie analyzing it. And this is just the way my mind works sometimes, sorry. **

**Along that line, I did include every 'canon' Slayer I could find any mention of. From the comics, from books, from Joss's site, etc. I had to assign dates and origins to some of those, but I included every one I could think of. Then I added hundreds of others. And you will notice that when Charlie is entering them into his computer, he's doing so alphabetically, by name. First all the Slayers with just given names, then all of the Slayers by surname. As you only see the first twenty-five names on this list, you're really not seeing everybody. And the list as I'm seeing it is a table in Microsoft Excel, but won't carry that, so I had to improvise. And that's all I'll say on that (for now, at least)...**

**From within the chapter itself:**

**(1) "Credere ab Memorae" = "secrets of the past" is a very rough translation and may be grammatically incorrect. I just went to the University of Notre Dame's very handy English-to-Latin translator and looked the words (and some others) up until I could put together a reasonable-sounding title. I took Spanish in school, not Latin, and never had the chance to study to any degree of fluency, so my interpretation of the grammar may, once again, be incorrect. Feel free to correct me, if you have any suggestions.**

**(2 (a/b/c)) OK, all of the spells the Lincrofts mentioned were in Sumerian, which I found in the Sumerian Dictionary available under the **_**Necronomic Research Group**_**'s Information Texts. (URL: .). Are these absolutely accurate? I really have no idea, but they sounded neat, so I hope so. If you actually know and think it's worth more research on my part, please say so.**

**Anyway, they translate as follows:**

**(a) **_**Rakbus**_** = Messengers (or spells to detect any kind of magical breach on something guarded by these magical messengers).**

**(b) **_**Sansus**_** = Tells (or spells that report what's occurring and who's responsible).**

**(c) **_**Alals **_**= Destroyers (or spells that attack offenders).**

**All of these were things the Lincrofts were expecting, but surprisingly didn't need to deal with when copying Giles' Council book.**

**(3) I couldn't remember if Buffy having any actual relatives in the canon was ever mentioned, though I **_**think**_** a few might have been. But couldn't figure out where. Therefore, the random 'great-aunt' on Joyce's side of the family got the first name 'Kristine', after the actress who played Joyce: Kristine Sutherland.**

**(4) I decided to go with Eliza Dushku's birth date as Faith's, and was honestly surprised when I learned that it was December 30, 1980. I was going to change the year, to make Faith sixteen—assuming Eliza was actually older—but decided the age gap between Buffy and Faith's Callings wasn't too bad. And it actually means that they were both the same age when they were Called in my storyline: 15. Buffy's age in canon confuses me at several points, so I was going more with what seems to be popular in fan fiction, that Buffy WAS 15. Not 16, which I don't think is shown in Season 1. But, anyway, that's why Faith is fifteen here.**

**(5) This is a paraphrased piece—some of it word for word—right out of ****Go Ask Malice**** by Robert Joseph Levy. I'll be using some of that for Faith's back-story in **_**Mathematics & Magic**_**, but probably not all of it since I already changed how long Faith was with Diane Dormer. Still, it seemed like a good place to start working on, so there it is.**

**(6) I honestly had no idea what "five by five" supposedly meant until I decided to Google it and got a link to that exact phrase on Wikipedia. Like most Buffy fans I just assumed it was weird Faith-ism. But after reading the bit on Wikipedia it seemed like the sort of thing Charlie might know, so... yeah. (URL: ****.org/wiki/Five_by_five****)**

**(7) Yes, I know Google didn't exist when I've placed the storyline. They would have had to make use of Yahoo! instead. But I like Google more, so that's just another bit of writers license. (pg43)**

**(8) OK, all of the info from the FBI and the police being on computer networks, that's all based on the NUMB3RS episode 100 or S5E21 "Disturbed," which opened with that kind of data being put into a network that then got back to Charlie, and helped him find a serial killer that nobody else had noticed. Personally, that's probably one of my favorite NUMB3RS episodes to date, though the season 5 finale "Angels and Devils" was pretty great too. The idea of a network like that made perfect sense to me. Do I know how any of that would actually work, how easily—or not easily—Willow'd be able to hack it, or even if the exact same network would've been up and running in the late nineties? No, to all. But it just fit so well into an idea I'd already been working on, that I had to go with it. Hope it doesn't bother anyone too much. **

**Oh! One more random comment: I recently finished reading Christopher Golden's ****Dark Congress****. It's probably my favorite of any of the Buffy-novels I've read so far. Though I'm only mentioning it because quite a bit of what occurs in it will probably be alluded to in (if not a huge part of one of) **_**Mathematics and Magic**_**. So anyone who hasn't read it might want to. Though it's not required. I'll probably summarize the whole thing before I go into actually using it. Which won't be for a while. It's set several years after the end of the series, and we're still, obviously in Season 3. And anything I'm going to do with it is well after that.**

**...And other than that I can't really think of anything to say. **

**I hope everyone liked the new chapter and apologize for the wait. Though, to be fair, I just finished my classes for this semester, with the exception of one more final this week. And, as I mentioned earlier, this chapter is almost twice the size it's supposed to be.**

**On the plus side, I'll have a lot more free time very soon—at least until I start working more for the summer—so I should be able to get more updates out faster. As a minus, though, I have several other fics I'll also be focusing on. But this one is my current favorite, so it'll probably get a lot more attention.**

**As always, REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!!!**

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 9: Mortal Peril – Part IV.**_


	10. Chapter 9: Mortal Peril P4 of 4

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: Ha! I **_**finally**_** finished the **_**Mortal Peril**_** part! ...The scary thing is I wrote almost this whole chapter in one day. I didn't have to work on Sunday, so this was the result. I just had to take the rest of the week to figure out a few of the scenes.**

**OK, this time I'm still not recommending a crossover, but it is a NUMB3RS fic. ****Call For Help****is FraidyCat's rendition of how the final episode of NUMB3RS Season 5, "Angels and Devils" **_**could**_** have played out, and continued a bit more after that. Personally, I think FraidyCat did a fantastic job with it. Charlie's banged around a bit more than he was in the show, so if you don't like that you might not like the fic, but that's the only possible deterrent I can think of for it. It's a fairly short, fast-paced read and chalked full of some fantastic imagery and humor. So if that kind of thing suits you: Enjoy! ^_^**

**Also, another slightly random recommendation: If you like science-fiction movies and haven't seen the new Star Trek movie yet, I highly recommend seeing it in theaters. It's GREAT. :-D**

**Warnings: Um... I can't think of anything I haven't warned you about before. Though there's one piece of German profanity in this chapter, too. Which is hopefully accurate, but after a considerable amount of research I still don't know for sure. _ . Other than that, if you see something I should warn your fellow readers about, please let me know. ^_~**

**Thanks again to **_**NeverTooOld**_** for beta-reading! ^_^**

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 9: Mortal Peril**_

_**Part IV**_

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_**Miller's Woods, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Charlie tried to draw deep breaths in as he followed the two Slayers through the woods at what was for him a very brisk jog. He was just glad he wasn't a complete geek and into only indoor activities, because it was probably only his experience hiking and the frequent uses of his bike to travel anywhere that had given him the endurance to keep up so far. He knew he was still slowing the Slayers down, but there wasn't much he could do about that. All he could do was his best at running as fast as he possibly could and hoping it was enough.

"B look out!" Faith called.

Charlie turned frantically towards the older Slayer just in time to see her pull her foot up, nimbly escaping a bear trap just as it snapped shut around where her ankle was less then a second before.

"Thanks," Annie gasped out. Then, just as a second jolt of alarm hit Charlie through their bond, she darted back to grab him and dragged him to the ground. "Get down!"

"Wha—?" His question was answered by the shot of a rifle, which made a part of the tree the mathematician had been standing in front of explode.

Charlie turned towards the shot's origin just in time to see Faith take the man's gun from him to bend it in half. He winced as—in his haste to evade the angry Slayer—the ugly man stepped backwards into another bear-trap.

"GAAHHH!" the man cried out loudly, making all three wince for different reasons.

Charlie could easily sense Annie's just barely suppressed rage as she stalked towards the trapped man. He knew both Slayers' were much more worried about other 'hunters' hearing the man's cry than they were about his pain. Realistically, he probably shouldn't be feeling sympathy of any kind towards the man that just tried to shoot him, but that trap looked _painful_. Of course, it was also kind of strange that of the three available targets the man chose to shoot at Charlie despite the fact that the other two were the real targets _and_ much, much more dangerous individuals.

With another look at their trapped attacker, the mathematician couldn't help but blink at his attire. It might look good—or at least socially acceptable—on a safari some place warm, hunting in a jungle or maybe somewhere in Africa, but the patchwork of animal skins and furs that made up his outfit, accompanied by a wide assortment of accessories for violence, just looked weird in southern California.

"That's gotta smart," Annie commented, her voice much harder than Charlie would ever be used to hearing.

The man glared at her for a moment, before reaching down to try and pry the trap open. It was something he logically shouldn't be able to do. If the thing was designed to hold a _bear_ in place for hours on end, a mere man couldn't rationally hope to escape it on strength alone. And obviously the being trapped in the trap couldn't get the proper angle to force their release. But then again it really did look like it hurt, so maybe that was affecting the man's mental functions. Or he perhaps just wanted to relieve the pressure or—

Charlie shook his head when Annie shot a glare at him and smiled apologetically. Now really wasn't a good time to distract her.

"OK, so we can either let you out of that _or_ start beating you with what's left of your gun," Annie turned back to the strangely-dressed man, one eyebrow raised even as he continued to glare at her. "How many of you are there in this little game?"

Charlie blinked at her, but then tried to force a blank expression onto his face. She had to just be trying to scare the guy, which made sense. Because they needed to know what they were up against here. But she couldn't really do anything to him. Although he was very strangely dressed and undoubtedly ill-intentioned towards them, the man was still human, which meant that the Slayers couldn't hurt him... Didn't it?

The hunter just glared at her for several moments more, his mouth set in a firm line.

Then he turned back to trying to pry the trap open, but froze when Faith suddenly swung the mangled shot-gun up over her shoulder, clearly preparing to take a swing at him.

He looked up at both of them again, then slowly rose, shaking his head. "There's me: 'm Jungle Bob. Two Germans, uh, a yellow-skinned demon called Kulak, vampire couple from Texas named Gorch, an' some punks from LA. Didn't get their names."

Annie stared at him for a long moment, then demanded, "And what are they packing?"

"Germans got AR-15s, a grenade launcher an' a bunch of other tech stuff. Both the demon an' the punk got knives. The punks migh' 'ave handguns, too. The vampires didn' 'av anythin' on 'em."

"That everybody?"

"Everybody who's out here," Jungle Bob continued quickly, apparently having decided that turning informant for his prey really was in his best interest. "But the Germans are wired. Their boss is tracking them on computer. Now get me out of this!"

"Wh-Who hired you?" Charlie quickly interjected as quietly he could, wincing when the question came out a stutter.

When Jungle Bob didn't answer him right away, Annie struck him across the face. She obviously pulled most of her strength out of the blow as it didn't send him flying or break his neck... or his face, not that you'd really be able to tell. Still, he'd probably have a nasty bruise there pretty soon.

"Answer the question."

"Vamp called Trick called us all 'ere. Well, all of us 'cept the punks' leader. Don' know how he heard about it, since they just broke outta the pen." Jungle Bob snorted in evident disgust, "Probably broughta a buncha coppers after 'em, too."

"B, we gotta move." Faith spoke up suddenly, nodding towards the direction they'd come from. Apparently having heard something that normal human ears couldn't, because when Annie focused on that area it took her only a moment to pick it out and nod.

Before Jungle Bob could say anything else, Annie swung another punch—that was, again, at nowhere near her full strength—at his face, sending him crashing to the ground.

Charlie frowned when she just turned to leave and she sighed.

Turning back, she leaned down to pry the trap open with supernatural ease, simply yanking the jaws open till they snapped off. Then she nodded to Faith, and the younger Slayer took the lead, with Annie ushering Charlie along behind her.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 _

_**A Cabin In Miller's Woods, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

"B, wait." Faith's request stopped the blonde Slayer just before she went to kick the cabin door in. At the look the elder teen sent her, she added, "Keep a lookout for a sec, will ya?"

Buffy frowned slightly but nodded as Faith handed her Jungle Bob's rifle-turned-club before moving over to the door. Realization dawned as the brunette pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and started fiddling with the lock. She nodded her approval even as she gently dragged Charlie behind her, placing him in between her and Faith, the safest place he could logically be in this situation.

A surprisingly short moment later the brunette rose with a grin of triumph, pushing the door open even as she grabbed Charlie to drag him in after her.

Buffy quickly followed, closing and locking the door behind her while Faith quickly inspected the cabin itself for dangers. "We should be safe in here for a while," she murmured quietly, the clandestine nature of their dilemma urging her to speak softly.

"We should?" Charlie looked around doubtfully, the cabin was rather small and made of wood. Old wood, which probably would stand up to much assault. Charlie stifled the urge to sneeze as years of dust rose up in the air around them, arisen from its duty of covering every surface in the cabin from their movement and the air that had blown in when they'd opened and closed the door.

Buffy sighed, shaking her head a little as she sent a burst of what she hoped was completely reassuring feelings along their bond. Then she turned to Faith, just as the younger Slayer turned back to her, having completed her quick inspection of the tiny shelter. "Any weapons?" she asked, while nodding again in approval as the younger Slayer dragged an apparently heavy trunk over to blockade the door.

"No," the younger Slayer replied, clearly unhappy with the fact, then her eyes alighted something, "But we do have a phone now."

"Does it work?" Buffy asked, unable to keep a clear note of amusement out of her voice as she caught a clearly projected image of trying to fight off their attackers with a phone along with a general sense of confusion from Charlie. But he shook his head, logic overriding the general sense of panic that had been dominating the mathematician's emotional state since they first learned about the start of 'Slayer Fest.'

Faith had already picked up the receiver and held it to her ear for a moment before nodding, "Yup, got a dial tone. You wanna call Giles?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded quickly, then frowned when Faith held the phone out to her. "Oh, the number's—"

"Nu-uh, _I'm_ _not_ makin' the call," the younger Slayer insisted as she quickly hung the phone up and moved away from it, shaking her head. "Not even sure how I'd start explaining this. Besides, G-man likes you more."

Buffy's frown deepened, "He does not like me more, Faith. He just knows me better."

"And _you_ know _him_," Faith insisted. "So _you_ should call this in. Not me."

Buffy opened her mouth to object but a slight cough—and a wave of part-amusement, part-consternation over the bond—from Charlie made her stop herself, and rolling her eyes she moved over towards the phone, nodding to the curtained window's as she went. "Check the windows."

"Looks like they're all boarded up," the brunette replied, after taking a quick glance around.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Check to make sure. And see if you can find a second exit, we might need it." She shook her head when Charlie started moving away from her to help look, "No, Charlie. You stay right here."

"Yeah," Faith shot a small, obviously meant to be reassuring grin at him as she moved from window to window. "We don't want you near any of the windows if the bad guys decide to be all breaking and enterish." She was frowning as she moved back to them, and continued while shaking her head. "These boards are pretty flimsy. G-man not answerin'?"

"No, it just keeps ringing. Maybe there's something wrong with the phone." She glanced at Charlie, "You have your cell, don't you?"

Charlie blinked, a pulse of part-embarrassment, part-relief telling her he'd honestly forgotten that he did, and nodded as he pulled it out of his pocket. "Sorry. Forgot I had it."

Buffy shook her head, "That's fine. See if you can get a hold of—" she stopped as the ringing finally stopped. "Oh, wait. Here's the answering machine."

"_You have reached the office of Dr. Rupert Giles. I am presently unable to receive your call. Please leave a message with your name—_"

Both Slayers looked at Charlie when his cell phone started ringing a moment after it'd powered up.

"—_and contact information, and I shall return your call as soon as possible. If this call is in reference to the Sunnydale High School library, whether it be a late book or one you are in need of, please call between the hours of eight and three on the next available week day. Thank you._"

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**A Cabin In Miller's Woods, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Charlie shrugged apologetically, as he immediately answered it. "Hello?" He realized a moment after he did so that now probably wasn't a good time to be accepting calls from anyone who didn't know about the supernatural, but when he heard his phone ring answering it was almost an automatic response.

"_Hey Chuck, you decide to actually listen to me?_"

"Don't call me tha—Don?" Charlie blinked, "What are you talking about?" He ignored Annie as the blonde rolled her eyes even as she started talking into the landline.

"Hey Giles, it's me. I'm with Charlie and Faith in Miller's Woods, and we're in big trouble."

"_Well, I'm at The Bronze now, and you're not. You were going to the dance at The Bronze, right?_"

Charlie nodded hesitantly, "Y-Yeah," the mathematician hoped his voice sounded normal as he talked to his much too perceptive older-brother while listening to Annie explain their situation. "Yeah, we'll be there soon."

"There's a bunch of demons and guys with guns out here, and they're in some kind of competition to see who can kill us first."

"_No, Charlie, really you shouldn't—_"

Charlie shook his head as he cut his brother off, "We're just, um, having a little trouble getting in, but I guess I'll see you soon, OK?"

"_Charlie, this is the only place with any activity at all…_"

"If you get this message, get help and get out here as—" Annie stopped abruptly.

As a jolt of panic hit him from their bond, Charlie sent her a worried look just in time to see her shaking her head at Faith even as he took a deep breath before interrupting his brother again, not willing to back down on this but also knowing he couldn't talk much longer.

"…_so if Derkin is trying to meet anyone in this town, it's gonna be here. You really—_"

"Don, I didn't go to any of the Homecoming Dances or the Proms when we were in high school, remember? I think I'm entitled to at least one fun dance. I'll see you there," he felt a little bad for ignoring his brother's concerns, now that they obviously were in real danger. But no matter what awaited them at the dance it _had_ to be safer than where they were now.

"B, what happened?"

"It went dead," Annie replied, her tone somehow just as tense as she herself was.

"Damn it," Faith snapped.

"_Charlie—_"

"Yeah," Annie agreed before moving over towards Charlie to whisper to him, "Charlie, get off the phone, Don doesn't know about—you know."

The genius nodded even as he cut Don off yet again, "I'll see you there, Don. Now I've gotta go. Bye." Charlie only felt a little remorse as he hung up on his big brother and hit the power-off button, once again shutting his phone down. Looking around their less than formidable shelter, he shook his head. "I don't think we should stay here."

Both Slayers looked at him.

"Why not?" Annie asked gently, none of the slight amusement Faith was feeling in her tone or along their bond.

Charlie shook his head, "Think about it, Annie. _They_ chose this area to hunt us in. Do you really think they don't know about the cabin in the middle of said area?"

Faith blinked, clearly surprised by the simple logic as she nodded. "He's got a point, B."

Sighing, Annie nodded again. "Alright."

She looked around, then moved over to the old, dusty table they'd previously ignored, tipping it on it's side to grab one of the fairly substantial legs and tear it off like it was a toothpick, rather than a table-leg her hand wasn't large enough to fit all the way around. She tossed it to Faith, nodding towards Charlie, who then accepted it from the Slayer as Annie tore two more table legs off: one for herself and one for Faith, before letting the now one-legged-table crash to the floor.

"Alright, let's get going."

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 _

_**Miller's Woods, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Buffy frowned as they jogged through the dark woods, she and Faith both forcing their bodies to match the pace Charlie set. He was really pushing himself, though his dress shoes were undoubtedly much easier to run in then her own. The only reason she and Faith could run in the high-heeled, pointy-toed shoes they were wearing was because they were Slayers. Though thankfully the dresses they'd chosen, with loose, flowing skirts, were loose enough to run in. Neither one wanted to do any more harm to their attire then was strictly necessary.

Though she found their Calling was starting to get more than a little depressing when it came to trying to take occasional nights off for normal-teen-like fun. Apparently it really was too much to ask that they be allowed to enjoy one normal school dance.

Unless a near-apocalypse had been averted immediately beforehand, she realized. Apparently post-apocalypse parties were allowed. So maybe she should have Charlie try to figure out when more apocalypsy-stuff was supposed to happen. Then try to schedule parties around that schedule.

Shaking her head at her straying thoughts, she shot another glance at her non-super-powered friend, frowning as she could see sweat starting to collect on his brow and his breathing coming a little heavier than it had a few minutes ago.

She opened her mouth to tell him they could slow down, but stopped as a wave of calm reassurance hit her. She blinked at Charlie, frowning slightly as she could clearly see he was focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, only occasionally looking up to glance around for danger since he knew Buffy and Faith would do everything they could to protect him.

If Charlie hadn't sent it then—

She blinked again as she realized who that had to be. '_Sineya?_' she thought, a little uncertainly. But she wasn't surprised when an echo of the earlier wave came from their bond, and with it a sudden increase in strength. Cocking her head a bit to the side, even as her eyes scanned the area ahead of them again, she mentally asked, '_You can help Charlie?_'

After a moment of nothing, her mind was filled with calm certainty that wasn't her own. Then it was gone, leaving her own thoughts alone in its wake.

Nodding slightly, Buffy wasn't quite surprised when Charlie's breath evened out. Though she did blink when he started to run a little faster, and sensed that it had surprised Faith, too.

"You know, you shouldn't wear yourself out, C-man," Faith told him, careful to keep her voice at the whispery level of volume so that it wouldn't carry back to their hunters. "If you collapse on us, we'll have ta carry you. And you'll probably ruin your tux."

Charlie chuckled, breathing only a little heavily as he replied, "I think my tuxedo might be a lost cause."

Seizing onto the topic, Buffy murmured, "Maybe not. Wills has this nifty new cleaning spell that does wonders for post-patrol attire. She might be able to salvage us."

"Course, one of us is gonna have ta get her attention when we get there," Faith pointed out with a chuckle.

"Has to be one of you," Charlie spoke up immediately, forcing himself to draw in a deeper breath before he continued. "My brother's waiting for us to show up. If we're gonna magically correct our clothes, he can't see me beforehand."

"Fair enough," Faith shrugged, glancing at Buffy. "Guess we'll be doin' rock, pape—"

"I made the phone call," Buffy interjected.

"You left a message."

"Yeah, but I did it. So unless your clothes are indecent when we get to the Bronze, you're gonna be the one that goes in." Before Faith could try to duck the responsibility again, she drew her attention back to their current problem. "I think someone's following us, but it's not the vamps. I'm not sensing any vamps anywhere near us." After taking a moment to consider what she was sensing around them, she spoke again. "There's a demon, though."

"Yeah, knife guy and the Germans, I think," Faith agreed.

"Could be the 'punks' Jungle Bob talked about," Buffy pointed out.

"The ones my brother's after?" Charlie asked, even as he continued to force himself to keep his breathing normal. Along their bond she could sense a bit of surprise at his own fortitude, and realized Sineya apparently hadn't told him she'd be helping out. And he was either too focused on not slowing them down or too shocky to notice her.

"Yeah," Faith confirmed, before shaking her head. "But since he's callin' 'em punks, I'm thinking gang-like-guys. The two that are following us don't move like that."

Buffy considered the movements she was hearing behind them, which was far enough away that their pursuers couldn't see them—which begged the question of how they were tracking them in the dark, since they were human—and focused on the two that were obviously closer together and moving at a fast but diligent pace, their moves carefully constrained. "You're right." She nodded slowly, "They move like the Council-guys. Kinda."

"Already knew that, but thanks for admittin' it," she could tell Faith was grinning without looking at her, it was in her quiet voice and shouted out by her pleased emotions. "I think I know where we are. I chased a vamp out here a few weeks ago."

"So how do we get back to town?" Buffy asked. She was pretty sure she could figure it out. They were far enough from the Hellmouth that she could sense the direction it was in, which told her where the high school was. But if Faith actually knew the area, it'd be better to follow her lead.

"Don't think we should go straight back to town," Faith replied. "They might have more traps set up for us that way."

"She's right," Charlie agreed, and Buffy nodded also.

"OK, so we'll go the long way. Any preferences?"

Faith thought for a moment, before nodding. "There's a creek about a mile up ahead. The demon might be able ta jump it like we can, but it'd probably slow the Germans down, at least. Though we'll have to toss you across, C-man."

Ignoring the amusement/incredulousness Faith's comment generated from Charlie, Buffy nodded. "Yeah, Toppler Creek, right?"

"That's the one."

"You're sure we can jump it?" Buffy asked, letting a little uncertainty slip into her voice as she shot another glance at Charlie. She knew _she_ could clear it, and therefore Faith could too. She just wasn't too sure about the idea of 'tossing' Charlie across though.

"Yeah." Then, surprisingly seeming to catch onto what the older Slayer was hesitant about, Faith added. "Actually, if we jump together, we could probably just take C-man, here, across with us."

"How far across is this, um, 'Toppler Creek'?" Charlie finally asked, apparently still unbothered by the extensive exercise they were forcing him to undertake.

"Don't know." Buffy blinked, suppressing a grimace as a glimmer of worry shot over the bond, accompanied by the sensation of falling. Honestly wanting to redirect the genius's focus, she asked, "Don't people usually name stuff after themselves?" She bit back a smile as a clear wave of relief came over their bond.

"Oh. So it's not because people tend to fall in?"

"Or it could be that," Faith nodded, smirking a little as Charlie made the mistake of rolling his eyes.

Both Slayers quickly caught and steadied him, never slowing down, when he nearly tripped as a result. Then, glancing at each other, they shrugged and—instead of releasing him once he'd found his feet to keep running—they picked him up again. Each holding onto one arm to easily keep him about half a foot off the ground as they ran through the lightly wooded area, they sped up. Headed for the Creek.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Miller's Woods, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Charlie winced as the mini-canyon in question came into sight. He hadn't questioned their need for speed when they'd decided to balance him between them and double the rate that they were cutting through the forest at, but the arroyo they wanted to jump was easily more than thirty feet across.

According to physics, a being's weight, strength and forward momentum—all negatively influenced by gravity at about 9.8 meters per second squared*—determined how far they were physically capable of jumping. (1)

The two women who were carrying him so easily as they ran—feet flying over the forest floor at a rate that would put most professional athletes to shame while neither of them were even breathing hard or sweating yet—weren't technically human. He supposed they Slayers could safely be categorized as 'super-human.'

But they still had their limits. Their bodies could still only expend a certain amount of energy to perform otherwise impossible feats. Their muscles could only take so much strain. Their bodies, as a whole, only recover from so much and only at a—very fast, but still set—pace.

And when the canyon they were planning on leaping across had come into sight, he hadn't been able to stop the instinctive jolt of fear that shot through his brain as it observed a distance across that would demand a bridge for anyone else to cross.

Deciding he really didn't want to see how far down the bottom of the rapidly approaching canyon was, Charlie closed his eyes even as he hesitantly asked. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

No matter how fast they were still moving—the wind that was brushing past his face and tugging through his curly hair felt more like he was sitting in a car with the window open than held up off the ground by two super-powered-girls—simple physics stated that the movement of going up and forward to cross the canyon was much farther than their bodies should be able to handle.

No matter how fast they were moving and how high they could jump, gravity still held them to the surface of the planet. And therefore it _would_ certainly pull them down when they jumped.

He'd seen Annie pull off some incredible moves while fighting the forces of darkness. But when she jumped up she still always came back down.

As far as he knew, Slayers couldn't fly.

"Yeah," came Faith's flippant reply. "Don't worry about it C-man. We've got it."

"But you can keep your eyes closed, if you want," Annie told him, even as a warm wave of reassurance swelled through their bond.

"Th-Thanks. I think I'll do that." The mathematician agreed, closing his eyes even as his far too powerful brain continued to run through statistics and mathematical facts that he'd really rather not be thinking about as he felt the Slayer's surge upward and forward.

_6 1 9 2 0 8 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Miller's Woods, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Faith grunted as she landed, letting her knees bend forward in a crouch before she pushed herself back up, all the while being careful not to let Charlie hit the ground too hard, her motion easily matched to Buffy's own, despite the older Slayer's shorter stature. "See?" she asked, shaking her head as the math-geek opened his eyes. She grinned at him even as she followed Buffy's example at set him on his feet, only letting him go once she was sure he wouldn't fall over. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," Charlie allowed, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. "I-I guess not."

When Buffy didn't comment or retort in any way, Faith glanced at her, then followed the blonde's example and turned her eyes towards the other side of the creek, looking for their pursuers. "Think we lost 'em?"

"Maybe," Buffy allowed with a nod, cocking her head to the side as she probably reached out with her senses. "We definitely gained some ground on 'em. But the demon's still pretty close."

"How close do you th—" Faith blinked as Buffy's hand shot out in front of Charlie, to catch one of the weird, serrated knives the demon carried just before it would've gone into his chest. "Oh."

Without another word, the two Slayers deftly grabbed the mathematician again and took off into the woods.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 _

_**Giles' House, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Buffy sighed as she knocked on her Watcher's door for the second time.

With adrenaline pumping through her veins as a response to their exciting night thus far, she'd had to carefully pull almost all of her strength back to avoid punishing the poor door for something it had no control over. And, of course, to avoid making Giles replace his door... again. Though, to be fair, it'd been well over a year since she'd been responsible for that. The most recent time was a demon's fault.

"Don't think he's here, B."

"No," Buffy agreed with a sigh, shaking her head as she turned away from the door and moved back down to the courtyard of Giles' apartment complex, where Faith was half-leaning on the rail of the bench Charlie had gratefully taken a seat on. She shot her friend a worried look.

Even with Sineya secretly supporting him, Charlie's body could only take so much stress before he collapsed. Technically, even she and Faith could only take so much, too, but they could take a lot more than Charlie.

Glancing back at the door of Giles apartment, she then turned to Faith and raised an eyebrow. "Don't suppose you could pick the lock so we could leave Charlie here?"

Charlie looked up quickly with a frown, "What—"

"I don't want to leave you just anywhere, Charlie," Buffy cut him off. "But I really don't want you with us, either. Not with all these maniacs hunting us."

"And it'd be better for us if we leave you stowed away here, C-man," Faith put in, her voice a little too warm to be considered teasing. "B and I'll be able to find and beat all the baddies back a lot quicker if we don't have to worry about you."

At that, Charlie seemed to sink into himself a little, but he nodded and sighed. "I-I guess that makes sense." Then he looked up again, shaking his head. "But I want to help."

"You can help," Buffy nodded, her voice firm. "By staying here. Maybe trying to get a hold of the gang by phone?"

"And you could call your brother back. Maybe he'll catch the three guys that he's after and we won't have to worry about them, then." Faith suggested, smirking softly.

Charlie chuckled, nodding slightly. "I guess. Will you—"

Whatever he'd been planning to say, however, Buffy didn't hear as that same instinctive warning that told her they were in immediate danger—which seemed particularly sensitive to when _Charlie_ was in immediate danger—went off and she darted forward to pull him from the bench, just before another one of the yellow-demon's serrated knives sailed through the air where Charlie's head had been a moment before.

She didn't for the life of her understand why they always seemed to target Charlie first, but her instincts had definitely keyed into responding to that threat, so she wasn't going to question it.

"I can handle this guy, B!" Faith yelled at her, while running towards the spikey-headed demon with her make-shift club raised. "Get C-man outta here!"

Knowing that Faith was right, and they really couldn't try to leave Charlie here when their pursuers had already tracked them this far, Buffy nodded and dragged Charlie to his feet. She glanced worriedly back to where Faith was fighting the yellow-spiked demon that could apparently pull knives out of its body—a wicked cool ability, she had to say—but decided after the third glance that Faith could definitely handle him.

The younger Slayer had come a long way after the fight with Kakistos. Her confidence had shot up a lot after that. And after many patrols with Faith, staking countless vamps and a number of demons, Buffy could definitely say that the yellow dude wouldn't be around in a few more minutes.

So she didn't feel too bad pulling Charlie away from the fight. Yellow-dude liked to throw his knives too much for her to be comfortable having Charlie anywhere near him.

Her 'Charlie-in-danger' sensor went off again and had her swinging around—again, pushing Charlie down as she went—to throw her club at the entryway just as one of the Germans came into view, his gun pointed towards them. Then he went down as her table-leg-turned-club slammed into his face.

He was squeezing the trigger as it hit him, but only a few shots went off in their direction, and a few more bullets went up into the sky—and the apartment building—before unconsciousness claimed him, forcibly relaxing his form even as his furious friend came through the entryway.

"_Zicke!!!_" (2)

Grabbing the club she'd given Charlie earlier, Buffy snapped at him, "Stay down!" even as she took off to cover the short distance between her and the second man much faster than was humanly possible, swinging the new club up to whack his gun down before he could get off a shot and swinging a foot up towards his face in the same move. She remembered at the last second, though, not to use all her strength, so she didn't break his neck with the kick.

Fortunately she didn't kill him, but she did knock him out cold, too.

After quickly looking both thugs over, and wincing at the ugly bruise that was already starting to dominate the first man's face, Buffy turned to spare a quick glance in Charlie's direction just as he came out from the hole in the wall she'd shoved him into. She nodded to signal it was OK for him to come out now; the lingering sense of danger that had permeated the area around them was gone, leaving only the knowledge that there were still several other monsters hunting them. But they weren't anywhere near here.

She couldn't stop a second wince from coming to her face as the distinct sound of bone breaking met her ears and she turned to see Faith moving away from the yellow-demon's cooling corpse. Her nose wrinkled a little at the very obvious dent the other Slayer had made in the demon's head with her make-shift club.

"Well," the younger Slayer sighed, twirling one of her fallen adversaries unique knives in her hands as she did so. "That takes care of that then, doesn't it?"

"There's still the vamps and the other humans," Buffy added mildly, though she had to grin at the other Slayer's slightly childish antics. "You gonna keep those?"

Faith glanced down at the knives she'd take from the yellow-demon, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." She nodded towards the corpse, "There's more over there, if you want some. That guy was just full of 'em. It was wicked cool," she was grinning animatedly as she waved a knife towards the demon again. "I mean, he could just make 'em pop right out of his hand or arm."

"Useful talent," Buffy agreed.

"No kidding," Faith snorted, shaking her head. "Though I gotta say, it's a lot neater lookin' back on it then it was when the knives were flyin' at my head."

At that, Buffy had to laugh, "It usually is," she glanced towards Charlie again, and frowned when she noticed the nervous glances he was throwing around them. "You OK, Charlie?"

The mathematician started slightly, but then nodded as he glanced back at her. "Y-Yeah. But... should we still be here?"

Buffy shrugged, "These were all the guys that were trackin' us from the limo, at least. Whoever else is hunting us, they're not here." Then she frowned down at the unconscious Germans, "I'm not sure how they found us, actually. I'm pretty sure we did loose them at the canyon, but we should probably tie them up. Giles can figure out what to do with them, once we actually find 'em." She jerked her head towards Giles' door, her eyes on Faith. "Can you pick—"

"I don't think it's safe for me to stay here," Charlie cut her off hurriedly.

"Charlie—"

"Really, Annie." Charlie nodded at the unconscious Germans. "You said we lost them back in the woods by jumping the canyon. But they still found us."

"Yeah," Faith agreed with a sigh. "I don't get it. I mean, the demon crossing the canyon and following our tracks as we cut across town I can believe, but the Germans are human, so—"

"So they must be tracking us some how," Buffy realized, nodding her agreement. "Maybe a spell of some kind?"

"No," Charlie disagreed, his eyes widening as his brilliant brain apparently made a leap there's hadn't yet.

Buffy was startled when he tried to grab her wrist, which really wasn't a very smart thing to do when both Slayers were on high alert, but she apparently trusted him enough instinctively that the likely instinctive response of punching or kicking him didn't come. "Charlie, what—"

"The corsages!" Charlie cut her off sharply, even as he pulled the pretty flower off her wrist. "All of the equipment they use is modern technology, right? And they drove us out to the clearing. They put the corsages in the car," He turned it over and pointed to the small device that was carefully concealed by the pretty petals. "And they put the tracking devices on them. That's probably what the old guy, um, that Jungle Bob was talking about is doing. He must be tracking us for them."

"Damn," Faith muttered, sounding distinctly annoyed as she pulled the rose that had been resting on her wrist off. "And I really liked this thing."

Charlie blinked at her, then shrugged, "So keep it."

"But—"

"There's nothing wrong with the corsages themselves," Charlie shook his head, turning it over till he found a little device with a blinking light on it and pulled it off, dropping it on the ground.

"Oh," Faith blinked as Charlie handed Buffy's corsage back to her, then shrugged again. "OK, thanks," smiling she copied the mathematician's actions to render her decorative piece harmless, before slipping it back onto her wrist. "Now what?"

Buffy thought about it for a long moment, then nodded. "We know that the other humans are probably waiting for us near the Bronze, like Charlie's brother thinks. But what about the vamps?"

"Vamps like the Bronze," Faith pointed out, frowning slightly.

"But with the wards that the witch from Deborah's coven set for the night, they can't get in." Buffy reminded her of the main reason they'd thought they were going to get away with a nice, vamp-and-demon-free night. "So are they going to be waiting for us outside, or not?"

After another long pause, Charlie spoke up. "You said vampires are drawn to the Hellmouth, that's why there are so many of them in Sunnydale, right?"

Both Slayers blinked at him, then nodded slowly before looking at each other.

"To the library?" Faith asked, one eyebrow raised as she shrugged again. "At the very least, that's where the armory is, too. And weapons are always a good thing."

Buffy nodded in agreement, "To the library." With a sigh, she turned towards the exit again, giving Charlie a nod as he followed her with Faith bringing up the rear.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Charlie shook his head as he followed Annie through the halls of her high school on the semi-familiar route that would take them to the school's library, with Faith right behind him. "Are you sure we should've come here?" he asked, glancing around dark halls. "I mean, if they're waiting for us—"

"Chill, C-man," Faith told him with a grin. "We can handle two vamps."

Charlie sighed, "I know, but—"

"Shh," Annie hissed quietly, shaking her head at the surprised look Charlie sends her. "Vamps have good hearing," she pointed out softly, leaning closer to him to make sure he heard her.

Charlie nodded in understanding. They were getting closed to the library. He glanced towards some of the empty classrooms, but then shook his head. Despite knowing they were headed directly for some of the monsters that were hunting them, he felt much safer between the two Slayers than he would by himself in a dark classroom.

He watched with a mild sense of amusement as he saw both Slayers glance towards the closed classroom doors and obviously reach the same conclusions: that he was safer while he was within their sights than he would be in public areas. With an ease borne of more practice than Annie probably liked, he sent her a warm wave of trust along their bond while shooting Faith a hopefully reassuring smile.

He received small smiles back in return, even as both Slayers were focused on their destination, or more specifically the conversing voices they'd undoubtedly heard long before he did.

The first one he understood was male, with a southern accent and clearly amused. "—go through you faster than Grandpa Pete's chili."

"I want to do Buffy," a female voice with the same accent replied, a clear note of impatience dominating her tone. "My weddin' present for what happened to your poor brother."

"Tector," the man—or, judging from the Slayers' focus on the library and this conversation, a male vampire—replied. Charlie was a bit surprised by the momentary bit of sadness he could hear in the vampire's voice. Not just because he couldn't sense it: they'd already learned that the emotions of the undead didn't register to their empathetic radar. Annie had theorized that it might be similar to vampires not having reflections. Or it could be their not having a soul, or the conscience and emotions that might be integrally tied to it. Whatever the case, they already knew that vampires registered as completely apathetic to the empathy. That was part of the reason the visit from the lawyers of _Wolfram and Hart_ had surprised him so much. He wasn't used to feeling so similar a level of apathy from human beings. But back to the point, the sadness in Mr. Gorch's voice—as he thought that was the name Jungle Bob had given the vamp—surprised him, because not sensing emotions from vampires had led him assume that vampires, for the most part, didn't have emotions. Annie—who was glaring at him for his wandering thoughts—had argued that it was more likely that they didn't feel emotions to the same extent as they did. Though Charlie understood that was more because of the vampire Spike's decision to side with her in the fight against Angelus. But only more data would solve that debate.

"When's she comin'?" the female vampire snapped suddenly, jarring him out of his thoughts even as they reached the library doors and paused directly outside to continue listening to the muffled conversation.

"Well," the male replied, his tone now sounding rather satisfied. "He's her Watcher. She'll show..."

Both Slayers looked at each other sharply, eyes going a little wide with worry.

Charlie blinked at the additional complication to their situation. Wasn't Dr. Giles supposed to be chaperoning the dance at the Bronze?

Then he shook his head. With how late he, Annie and Faith were, it shouldn't surprise him that the Watcher had probably drive here to check his voicemails. It was only a few blocks away, anyway, and the Englishman's dislike of most modern technology, Charlie already knew, had kept him from taking the time to figure out how he could check his voicemail from other locations.

"Just as soon as she gets rid of some of our competition," the vampire—who was probably smirking—finished.

Closing his eyes, Charlie reached out with his empathetic senses, deliberately ignoring Annie's poignant worry to reach into the library instead. He bit back a sigh of relief as he found Giles presence.

The older man was undoubtedly unconscious, with no emotional activity registering to Charlie's empathy, but he was alive.

Reaching out a gentle hand out a gentle hand to quietly get Faith's attention, Charlie sent a burst of reassurance to Annie along their bond, even as he gave Faith's shoulder a gentle, hopefully reassuring squeeze.

Annie looked back at him, and he saw when she realized where his confidence was coming from, as hope lit up her eyes just before she nodded before turning back to Faith and raising all five fingers of one hand. She pointed towards the door, and then raised the five fingers again before she started motioning with her hand as she silently counted down.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Honestly, Charlie had to wonder—as he followed the pair through the door a few moments after they'd charged through—what the two vampires thought they were doing, going up against two Slayers together. Realistically, they couldn't really think they stood a chance against them.

But then again, he realized as he watched Faith repeatedly whack the female vampire with Giles coat rack, Annie had told him many times before—and he'd seen examples of it himself—most vampires weren't all that smart.

That's why the master vampires that _were_ intelligent were so scary.

But intelligent master vampires these two were not.

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Faith plunge the pointy-top of the coat rack—and did Giles get a wooden, pointy-topped coat rack with that specific sort of scenario in mind?—through the female vampires chest.

"CANDY!" the male vampire cried out in evident horror. "Oh, Can—"

But the moment he stopped to stare at his partner's disintegrating form, he was done for as Annie ably swung an axe she'd grabbed off of the nearby counter around to chop off his head.

Seeing the danger in the library was clearly dealt with, Charlie hurried towards Dr. Giles form on the floor, but he wasn't surprised when Annie and Faith both got there before him.

"He OK, B?"

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 _

_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head as she gently turned their Watcher over, cradling his head in her lap. "I don't—" she stopped and smiled brightly as Giles face suddenly scrunched up, and he emitted a groan that experience had taught her meant her mildly concussed-Watcher was waking up. "Giles?"

Familiar features formed clear expression of discomfort for a moment before his eyes slowly opened, only to start blinking rapidly for several seconds as his pale blue gaze became accustom to light once more.

"You OK, G-man?"

"Faith?" the Watcher replied, his voice a bit faint for a moment, before he seemed to find himself again and forced his eyes open to look up at them. "Buffy? What—Are you alright?"

Both Slayers blinked at him.

"I was listening to your message, you were—" he shook his head, then winced as the motion clearly jarred his brain. "What—" he stopped again, and sighed. "I presume I was—"

"Knocked out again?" Buffy grinned down at him. "Yup."

"I see, and you two are—"

"We're fine, Giles."

"And Dr. Eppes is—"

"Right here," Charlie cut in calmly, and Buffy glanced up to see him standing behind where Faith was kneeling, holding a familiar pair of glasses in hand. "And I thought you might want these."

Giles opened his eyes to look, then nodded slightly as he slowly pushed himself up—with Buffy not helping him but ready to catch him if he fell—and reached for his glasses. "Yes, thank you." He groaned as he forced himself up the rest of the way, swaying slightly for a moment before he caught the edge of the counter to steady himself and looked around.

Buffy also winced as she looked around. The vamps themselves had made a bit of a mess before they'd gotten there, but she and Faith hadn't helped when they'd been fighting the pair. Still, the two tell-tale piles of dust were pretty clear explanations of what had happened.

"Vampires?"

"Yah," Faith confirmed immediately, and Buffy had to smile as she watched the younger Slayer trying to conceal the momentary bit of fear she'd felt at seeing their Watcher on the floor. "Called 'emselves Gorche, didn't they, B?"

Buffy shrugged, "That's what Jungle Bob said."

A wave of confusion hit her, and she bit back the answering smile as her Watcher blinked at her in clear confusion.

"Who?"

_6 1 9 2 0 8 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**The Bronze, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Faith shook her head as she slipped through the bustling busy bodies that had been enjoying the dance for hours now. Eyes alighting on several servers who, her fairly well honed instincts were telling her, were out of place. It wasn't until she recognized one of them that she realized why.

She knew him from a picture Charlie carried of his family. And though his older brother had cut his hair a bit shorter and wasn't smiling like he was in the picture, it was still definitely Don Eppes. Which meant that all—or at least most—of the other servers were probably undercover cops/feds, too.

That made her slow down a little. She even stopped at the punch bowl, seeing as it was surprisingly open, as she passed by the table. Gave herself a small cup to sip from as she wove her way through the club until she finally found her target.

Normally Red was fairly easy to find. The vibrant hair color Faith called her by, combined with a generally bright wardrobe would make her stand out even if the subtle 'ping' of developing witch on her Slay-dar didn't.

But now Red was dressed in an elegant, long black dress. And she wasn't smiling.

In fact, X-man, who was standing next to her with his girlfriend as all three watched wolf-boy on the stage, didn't look too happy-go-lucky either.

But that wasn't her problem. Right now, she needed Willow to fix her wardrobe. And the others. So that they could join the party.

Cordelia spotted her first, "What happen to you?"

"Faith! We were getting—" Willow turned to her, eyes wide, only to frown at the clear signs of abuse the Slayer's dress had taken. "—worried. What—where's Buffy? And Charlie?"

"They're outside, Red." Faith spoke up quickly, even as she gently grabbed the older teen's shoulder and started to pull her towards the door. She stopped a second when Willow resisted, but it was more because of the stare that was suddenly boring into her back. In response, she turned towards the stage and wasn't surprised to see that Oz was frowning at her. In response to his raised eyebrow, she shook her head, then started tugging his redhead off once more. "We had a little trouble gettin' here. B said you've got a spell that could help us clean up for the party?"

"Oh," Willow blinked, then nodded. "Oh, right. Yes, I mean, of course. But wh—"

"Great, follow me then," Faith ordered, slipping her hand down to latch onto the redhead's so that she wouldn't lose her in the crowd, even as she turned her attention to getting the two of them out of the club with out running into any of the many lawmen all around the club.

Willow followed her in nervous but trusting silence for more than a minute before she spoke up again, "Why are we—"

"I'll tell ya when we get outta here, Red," the Slayer reassured her, leaning back so that she could speak softly and not be overheard. She'd known it wouldn't take the witch long to notice that Faith was taking a very roundabout way out of the club. "Just trust me for now, 'k?"

"...Um, O-K," the older girl replied, clearly still nervous but not wanting to doubt the Slayer.

Faith frowned as she spotted Charlie's brother again.

And this time the elder Eppes wasn't just moving about, watching everyone, he was standing right by the door she wanted to go out through, talking to another very-fit, vigilant server.

Shaking her head, she pulled the redhead towards another exit, even as she finished her drink off and set the empty cup down on a random table.

They made it to the second door without problems.

Though, when she looked back towards the elder Eppes, she did see him glance towards them. Luckily, they were now far enough away that it wouldn't matter. In the haphazard lighting and the crammed atmosphere, he shouldn't remember anything really significant about her appearance now. So it'd still be safe for Charlie to introduce them later.

She shot the doorman a smile as he held the door open for the two of them, pushing back the clear amusement she felt at just how helpful the guards here in Sunnydale always were to her and Buffy. It was yet another thing that made the Sunnydale cops seem so moronic. The regular security guards knew enough to trust the real dangers of the night to the Slayers, even if they didn't consciously acknowledge it. They did, however, make a point of showing them a certain amount of respect for that reason.

Not too long ago, the fact that most of the respect they showed her was only a reflection of Buffy's activities here—and something she'd have to work at earning for a while to come—would have really bothered her. But after several discussions with the elder Slayer, she'd come to accept that as a matter of course.

She was doing her job. And according to Buffy, that meant she deserved just as much respect. So it wasn't something she questioned.

Once out in the cool night air, she raised an eyebrow at the witch-in-training, jerking her head to the side as she did so. "They're over there." She stepped back to walk beside the older girl, releasing her hand to lock elbows with her instead. That was how she and Buffy tended to walk together when they were patrolling—unless one or both of them really needed some space—so it was a lot more comfortable for her. "So, this spell of yours," she smiled at the older girl. "How does it work?"

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 _

_**Outside The Bronze, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Buffy grimaced a little as Faith led an obviously nervous Willow around the corner of the alley, halfway down to where they were waiting. She never liked making her friends worry, but her Calling rarely—never, really—obliged her in that regard. "Hey Will, how's the party going?"

"G-Good," the witch replied with an anxious smile as she looked them over. Fortunately they were relatively unharmed, though their clothes had obviously seen better days. "Are you guys OK?"

"We're fine, Will," Buffy reassured her immediately, though the redhead's expression made it clear that she didn't believe her. "Just a little banged up." Then she wrinkled her nose as she glanced down at the dress she'd spent a year's allowance on for tonight. "Do you think you could fix us up?"

"You're not hur—"

"Just a few bumps and bruises, Red," Faith cut in, her tone a lot more gentle than the brunette usually cared to be in public. "Have they announced the queen, yet?"

Willow blinked at the topic change, but shrugged as she went with it. "Yeah, they called it a few minutes ago."

"Cordy didn't win?" Buffy guessed after a moment of silence.

"Yeah, she's pissed." Willow confirmed. "Xander's kinda going back and forth between avoiding her and trying to cheer her up."

"Poor X-man," Faith shook her head, though the smirk on her face and in her tone didn't match her words.

Buffy tilted her head to the side curiously as she asked, "So who won?"

Cordelia Chase's antics as she'd vied for the position of Homecoming Queen this week had honestly amused the Slayer.

A part of her had yearned for that same kind of recognition, but with Charlie visiting all week, she hadn't been willing to get herself pulled into the task of appeasing it. Especially since Charlie, himself, clearly found the entire tradition more than a little ridiculous. He hadn't said anything of course, not with Cordy constantly trying to pull all of them into her schemes, but their emotional bond didn't need speech to convey his amusement, disbelief and bewilderment.

Plus, even though Cordy had nearly blown Buffy's chance of getting a picture in the yearbook, Charlie had helped her solve that issue rather handily, and then quickly pointed out that trying to take Cordelia's title away from her when she was already feeling socially threatened due to her relationship with Xander, wouldn't be a nice thing to do.

So Buffy had pushed that brief desire aside, instead seizing onto her friends for more quality time and occasionally agreeing to help Cordelia with her campaign.

But honestly it didn't surprise her that Cordelia had lost. The entire 'competition' was really a popularity contest at its most basic form. To be popular, one had to be liked. Combined with her already challenged social status, the brunette's disdainful attitude towards her competition, clearly seen by anyone who cared to look, obviously hadn't won her any points.

"Holly and Michelle."

Faith laughed, "Cordy was competing against two people and _both_ of them won over her?" she shook her head. "That's gotta sting. No wonder she's pissed."

Buffy nodded her agreement, then pointed out with a small grin. "Yeah. Well, I guess we'll have to try and cheer her up. For Xander's sake, at least." She raised an eyebrow at her redhead friend, "So do you need anything for the spell, or...?"

Willow blinked. "Oh, no. No, I'm fine." She took a few steps back. "You guys just stand there. I'll chant." Then she closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them again and raising her arms as she started to chant in what sounded like Latin.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Outside The Bronze, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Charlie smiled as Willow blushed in response to Annie and Faith's exuberant—and more than a little over the top—praise. Honestly though, what she'd just done was not only remarkably useful, but also only the second time he'd really been able to see magic do something. And even the first time—when he'd watched the Lincrofts copy the Watchers' book—hadn't been as impressive. It took him a moment to rationalize why.

While the book was really very immensely impressive, especially as an example of what mages had been capable of for centuries, it was much more removed, more impersonal than their clothing was. Having the stained, torn, ripped and slightly bloody clothes they'd been wearing reform them, and look like new in response to a phrase of Latin and a few candles was therefore more impressive.

Though Annie and Faith's almost ecstatic response to the spell confused him as much as it embarrassed Willow. Until he remembered the countless complaints both Slayers had offered after patrols about ruined clothes and shoes. Then it made sense, though it also made it roll his eyes even as he smiled warmly at the redhead.

"Thank you, Willow."

"Your welcome," the witch-in-training replied, a little out of breath but smiling widely. But her enthusiasm left on a startled gasp when she took a step forward and her legs gave out underneath her. "Whoa!"

She was saved the embarrassment—and probable pain—of falling flat on her face only because both of the other girls were supernaturally fast and easily caught her.

Annie was frowning at her friend as she supported most of the taller girl's weight, since Faith had released her once she'd seen Annie had the redhead.

"Nifty mojo there, Red, but I think ya mighta overdone it a little."

"Willow—"

"I'm fine, Buffy..."

Charlie's mind flashed briefly back to watching the Lincroft siblings decimate a plate of cookies after they'd cast a spell. He glanced towards the side door of the club, where the helpful doorman that had brought Willow to them earlier was watching with concern. Then he tuned back to the bickering females."

"Really, Buffy, I'm f—"

"You're _not_ fine, Wills."

"Yes I—"

"Don't mean to take sides here, Red, but you'd collapse if B weren't holdin' you up."

"Exactly!" Annie agreed, "So you're n—"

"Do you want me to go in and get something for you, Willow?" Charlie interceded gently, winning a grateful smile from the redhead for his efforts.

"Yeah. Some fruit punch'd be great. Thanks, Charlie."

The genius nodded in response, before hurrying towards the door even as the two Slayers started fussing over their friend again. He nodded again, in thanks, as the very nice doorman opened the door for him. All of the people that worked at the Bronze were very good to all of Annie's friends, giving credence to the idea that they weren't quite as oblivious to the supernatural as they pretended to be. He found it a bit interesting that the doormen here in Sunnydale were almost all human, whereas those in LA were not.

He was halfway to the bar, where several full bowls of punch were set up with the bartenders taking orders off to the side, when a familiar voice stopped him.

"Charlie?"

Charlie stopped abruptly, then forced an instinctive wince from his face before turning towards his brother.

The frown on the FBI agent's face didn't surprise him. Though he did blink at his brother's outfit. Apparently Don was undercover as a server for the party. And as many more men and women in similarly good shape were moving about the room with serving platters and alert expressions—way too many hired hands for a small high school's reunion at a club that rarely hired part-time workers—they were still waiting for the fugitives. At least that was the only thing he could think of that explained the tightly reigned vigilance he sensed rolling off all of them.

Who were hopefully still looking for the Slayers somewhere in Miller's Woods. Though they'd never seen them there.

"Hi Don."

"You shouldn't be h—"

"I'll talk to you later," he cut the coming rant off before his brother could get going. "A friend needs some fruit punch, OK?"

"What—"

"She really needs it, Don. I'll talk to you later." He'd turned away and gone only a few steps before Don was moving along almost beside him.

"Is your friend hypoglycemic or something?"

Charlie blinked, but then forced a shrug as he kept his focus on the bar, stopping at the end of the line for fruit punch with a frown. "Something like that, I think. But I don't really know. She feels really woozy. I offered to get her something and she said fruit punch should help." He frowned when his brother grabbed his elbow and dragged him out of the line, "Don—"

"The fruit punch won't help her much, Charlie. If she's hypoglycemic she doesn't want to drink anything with alcohol in it, and we've already had to change it three times after the kids' here spiked it with something." Don told him, stopping near one of the free bartenders, "Hey Pete."

Charlie blinked again in surprise that his brother apparently knew the man somehow, but then realized the well-muscled man was probably another undercover cop. Maybe the Sunnydale cops really weren't as bad as Annie and the others thought they were. Maybe they were just unable to accept the supernatural, like so many others.

"He needs some OJ," Don was telling the 'bartender.'

"Comin' right up."

"Thank you," Charlie murmured, glancing back at his brother. "So did you catch those guys? You've got a lot of people here." Which he thought meant they were still looking, but maybe they didn't want to upset the crowd or something and were therefore staying till the end of the dance?

"Yeah, we do," Don agreed, clearly surprised that his geeky-little-brother had noticed. Then his face twisted in a little grimace, "Unfortunately they're all Statey's who got here the same time we did. Sunnydale PD didn't do shit. Apparently the town Mayor doesn't want us here." His eyes quickly scanned the crowd, before returning to Charlie. "Sometimes politicians really piss me off."

"But he couldn't keep you out, right?" Charlie asked, frowning in slight confusion. This was at least the third time he'd heard about Sunnydale's mayor in less than ideal circumstances.

"Nah," the agent shook his head. "We know Derkin's here, we already caught one of his stooges, but we can't find him or the other one." He shrugged. "And the club owner didn't have a problem with us being here. Seemed to think he might know who the target could be and he doesn't want anything to happen to her, so he's been really cooperative. But the girl he told us about isn't here."

"Y-You're sure he's here?" the mathematician asked hesitantly, growing more and more nervous at the idea more of the SlayerFest people being close by, rather than lost in the woods as he'd hoped, despite Annie and Faith's expectations to the contrary.

"We caught Joey L outside. So yeah, we kinda expect Derkin and Stephens to show." Don's head cocked to the side as he looked at him more closely, frowning slightly, "You haven't met a Buffy Summers, have you?"

Charlie couldn't stop a flinch that time even as he nodded to the undercover cop when the older man finally set the full glass of juice in front of him. "Thanks," glancing at Don, he shook his head as he started to move off. "I've gotta get this to—"

"Charlie," Don caught his elbow to stop him, eyes narrowed. "Do you know where Summers is? Everyone we've asked said she's not here—"

"She's not. I've got to get this to Willow, Don. Annie's—"

"Life isn't at stake, Charlie! If you know where Derkin's target is, you've gotta tell me. She—"

"Follow me, then," Charlie snapped, tugging his arm free of Don's grip with an ease that would've surprised him if he wasn't so worried. His brother was physically much stronger than he was, and had had a very good grip. But that wasn't something the mathematician wanted to pay attention to right now. So he didn't. Instead he hurriedly explained the first comment just before he took off at as fast a walk as he could manage, slipping between the mingling, fancied-up teenagers that were there to have a good time. Just like he and Annie and Faith wanted to be. "She's with Willow. Outside." Again, he gained only a few steps before Don was moving along behind him.

As he neared the door, he saw another server move into their path. A man that Charlie kind of recognized from some recent photos Don had sent to their parents.

"What's going on?" Billy Cooper's face was serious as he made his demand, though the demand was entirely directed towards Don. His brother's partner in Fugitive Recovery had barely spared him a glance. Though he had looked back for a second one a moment later, perhaps from surprised recognition.

"He knows where Summers is," Don told the slightly older agent. "Any sign of Derkin or Stephens yet?"

Billy shook his head, "Not a hair."

The slightly older FBI agent reached out to to try and catch Charlie as the impatient teen brushed passed him, but something made him move in just the right way to slip around the federal agent. It almost felt like Sineya, but he didn't think she could just take control of his body like that. It hadn't felt like he wasn't in complete control of his body, anyway. Though his mind was a bit hazy from worry, so he could be wrong on that account.

"Let him go," Don was saying as he followed Charlie by his partner. "He'll take us to her."

"What's the orange juice for?"

"A friend with a low blood sugar."

At that, Billy groaned. "Oh please tell me Summers is _not_ a diabetic. We really don't need our perps' target having a medical emergency right now."

"She's not. This is a different friend."

As they made it out of the club, Charlie frowned. He'd apparently gotten turned around in the club somehow and picked the wrong door. Glancing up at the sky, he nodded to himself. He was on the wrong side of the building.

"Where is she, Chuck?" the teasing tone—and the hated nickname—clearly showed what Charlie could already sense.

Outside of the crowded club, the FBI agents were much more comfortable, no matter how many shadows they had to walk through. Though he couldn't say they weren't still wary, still vigilant. Because they were.

"Other side of the building," Charlie replied, shaking his head as a bit of annoyance colored with amusement rushed at him from his brother. He didn't sense much from Billy. Maybe because both agents were feeling about the same things? Or maybe because he was more familiar with Don. Though he wouldn't think that would matter, maybe it did. "Sorry, I got turned around, I think."

After a few moments of walking in silence, his brother's curiosity got the best of him. "So you're here with the 'Annie' I've been hearing so much about lately?" a little bit of confusion introduced itself before he added, "Though it sounded like you might be going with a girl name Faith. Mom wasn't too clear on that."

Charlie almost glanced back at him as he responded—the little brother in him wanting to impress big brother and big brother's friend—but the growing sense of urgency in his gut wouldn't let him. "Both, actually."

The wave of surprise, followed quickly by admiration from both older men, was more than a little gratifying, despite the circumstances.

_6 1 9 2 0 8 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Outside The Bronze, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 11, 1996**_

Faith chuckled as Willow's face ran through a wide range of emotions before settling a exhausted again. Not that she could blame her. The two Slayers hadn't even made it to the party yet, but they'd definitely had a more than eventful night.

"But you got them all, right?" the redhead asked nervously.

"Think so," the younger Slayer confirmed with a shrug. "Though there were supposed to be some normal goons that we haven't seen yet."

"Normal?"

"Human."

"Oh," Willow nodded slowly, her eyes darting back and forth even as she leaned against the shorter Slayer.

"You sure you don't wanna sit down, Will?"

Faith chuckled again when the redhead merely glanced at the filthy ground before shooting the blonde a partially-disgusted, partially-disbelieving look.

"I'm sure." Willow replied, shaking her head. "There's _no_ way I'm getting any of that on my dress." Then she yelped softly as both Slayers heads turned—almost in sync—towards the end of one alley. "What—?"

"Don't worry, Wils," Buffy cut in gently, and Faith shot her a surprised look as she saw the older Slayer was already, mostly, relaxed. "It's just Charlie."

Faith listened closely for a moment, then nodded as she recognized the slightly unique sound of his steps after listening to all the noises his dress shoes were able to make under numerous kinds of abuse throughout the evening. But her frown didn't fade and she didn't relax right away, "But there's someone else with him."

Buffy nodded, "I think it's his brother."

"And another cop, then," Faith nodded in agreement, also relaxing just before they saw Charlie come around the corner with two older men behind him. She tried to shrug off the uncomfortable itch, the 'not-wanting-to-be-here' feeling she still got when she saw cops. She wasn't on the street for that long in years past, thanks to Diana Dormer, but it was still a prejudice that was hard to shake.

She'd kick herself many times for it later. She practically already was as—out of the corner of her eye—she saw Buffy suddenly tense, one hand shooting up as if to catch something.

As her head snapped around with the speed only a Slayer could make, her supernaturally enhanced eyes also saw what the older Slayer was trying to catch as everything seemed to move slowly around her.

She saw the dart that had been shot at Buffy from the rooftop sailing through the air.

Saw that Buffy should have been able to catch it, her hand was in place to do so and her Slayer-reflexes were more than capable of the feat.

But then the dart changed paths, and she recognized the itch she'd been ignoring for what it really was.

Not an annoyance at the presence of cops.

An annoyance at the presence of dark magic. Aimed at them.

And making the dart Buffy should've been able to catch shoot around her hand and directly into her neck.

Faith's own hand shot forward to tug the dart from her stunned friend's neck even as she helped drag Willow down to the ground and heard the vaguely familiar sound of gunshots as the two feds, who now had Charlie behind them, responded to the sudden threat.

They scared the shooter off before he could fire another shot, namely at Faith herself.

But B was out cold.

Leaving Faith to stare at the still half-full dart that she'd pulled from her friends neck even as the alleyway was suddenly swarming with a lot of cops and Feds in nice outfits.

_4 1 5 1 4 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**General Hospital, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 12, 1996**_

Don Eppes shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he entered the small town's hospital, biting down on the tasteless piece of gum he'd been chewing on for some time now. He knew that, realistically, none of the events of the night were in any way his fault. Every one of his guys had done their job, himself included: a fact that Billy had been sure to pound into his head at the first opportunity. Which had come only after they'd managed to corner and catch Durkin and his accomplice, and returned to the alley just in time to see his brother stepping up into the ambulance that had been called for the Summers girl.

Whatever was in the dart Durkin had shot Summers with had knocked her out cold instantly. They'd seen that and the cops, plus Summers' anxious friends had been able to confirm. Then all of them had rushed off at once, and Billy had given him the OK to head to the hospital to check on his brother.

So here he was.

Pulling out his badge with a sigh, he stopped at the information desk. "FBI. I'm here to check on the victim of a recent assault. Buffy—"

"Miss Summers' condition is not yet known, sir," the nurse cut him off abruptly. "But her friends and family are outside, in the ER waiting room."

Don blinked in surprise, before shaking his head as he realized a name like 'Buffy' probably would stand out on any list. Plus this was a fairly small town, so it probably didn't get that many injuries compared to the hospitals in LA and other big cities. He nodded to the helpful nurse, "Thank you. The ER is—?"

The nurse offered him a sympathetic smile, "On the other side of the hospital, I'm afraid, sir." She nodded towards a nearby, open corridor. "Just go down to the end of the hall, take a right and keep going. Can't miss it."

"Thank you," Don nodded again, before moving towards the indicated hallway. Reaching into his coat pocket—the much more comfortable one he'd changed into at the first available opportunity, which was shortly before coming here—he pulled out the almost empty pack of gum and popped another piece into his mouth before putting the container back in his pocket.

As he walked, chewing thoughtfully on the sharp-minty flavored wad that had been his usual stress reliever since not long after he'd started playing in little league as a child, he couldn't help but wonder at how his brother was taking everything that had happened tonight.

Looking back on his recent, less than cordial, chats with Charlie, it honestly didn't surprise him that Charlie had reacted to Don's request the way he had. They hadn't really seen each other in years. And though both had called home to talk to their parents fairly frequently while in school, a practice Don had tried to keep up after he'd entered Fugitive Recovery, as Charlie's surprise when Don had called to talk to him had shown: he and his brother had definitely fallen out of touch.

Not to mention, as Charlie had pointed out, he knew his little brother really hadn't enjoyed high school. And hadn't gone to any of the dances. His brother's presence had bugged him more than little back then, but he couldn't help but feel a little guilty for asking Charlie to not come to the small town's dance.

Even though he'd been right.

Still, even though the big brother in him hadn't been happy at having his concerns ignored—and had been absolutely horrified at Charlie being anywhere near an armed, federal fugitive—oddly the thing that was annoying him the most right now was a much less important fact, but one that big brother seemed focused on.

While talking to the nervous group of teens the ambulance left behind, he hadn't remotely been able to figure out who his brother's date was. He found it hard to believe that Charlie was seriously attending the dance with two girls, so it was probably a just-as-friends kind of thing. But none of the girls had really stood out, and none had seemed to recognize him at all. Which meant Annie wasn't there, because after spending weeks in his parents house the chances of her not recognizing him from one of the many photos therein were next to nil.

And even though his gut was telling him it was foolish hope, he was really, _really_ hoping 'Annie' wasn't a nickname for Buffy Summers.

Because he wasn't sure how he'd talk to Charlie about that. Or their parents.

But as he entered the Emergency Room, he knew his hopes were in vain as he saw Charlie seemed to be mainly conversing with the only older woman in the room. A woman who's coloring, from what he remembered, distinctly matched Summers'.

With all the hustle and bustle of activity in the hospital—really a lot more than he'd initially expected for the small town—Don wouldn't have thought his approach would be noticed. Especially considering the doors all of Summers' friends, including his brother, were watching were on the opposite side of the room from the hallway he was entering through. But he hadn't even finished his first step into the room when a pair of dark—and surprisingly alert, but even more worried—eyes locked onto him. And almost immediately afterwards Charlie looked over towards him, too.

Apparently little brother wasn't quite as oblivious as he used to be.

"Don!" there was a definite note of relief in Charlie's voice as he rose to his feet, with everyone else following suit. Then the older Eppes had to bite back a sigh as Charlie's arm came up—possibly to hug him—only to drop back to his side almost immediately, as clear uncertainty shot across his face.

The Eppes men had never been much for hugs. That was mom's thing.

Don shook his head as he came to a stop by his little brother, biting down firmly to send another burst of mint over his tongue as he reached out to grab his brother's shoulder in a gentle squeeze, before dropping his hand away almost immediately. "Hey Buddy, how ya doin'?"

Charlie looked away for a second, then sighed and shook his head.

Don felt another burst of honestly-unmerited-guilt run through him, which wasn't helped at all by his brother's pained wince.

"Annie's still in there," the young genius nodded toward the ER doors with a sigh. "The doctors haven't told us anything."

"Really?" Don blinked, and shook his head. "Not even whatever she was hit with? The paramedics brought the dart in didn'—"

"Yeah," Charlie confirmed with another quick nod. "Yeah, they did." He ran a hand through his hair, brushing the curls back from his face with another sigh. "They just haven't told us anything yet."

Don nodded at the news, though honestly he was more worried about why his brother: the genius's hand was shaking. "Are you OK, Chuck?"

"Don't call—"

Don was honestly surprised when Charlie abruptly stopped himself and shook his head. The somewhat childish nickname game they'd played for years wasn't a barb Charlie tended to ignore. Another stab of guilt shot through him as he realized that that probably meant Charlie was even more worried then he'd originally expected.

He obviously really did care about this girl. And looking around, it was clear a lot of people did. Margaret and Alan Eppes undoubtedly among them, even though they weren't here in person.

"D-Do you need to take our statements?" an unfamiliar girl's voice asked hesitantly.

Don turned towards her and saw that it was the shaky redhead that had needed the orange juice Charlie had gone into the club for. It had actually kind of impressed Don that Charlie had still gotten it to her without spilling it or anything when all the chaos started, as she'd been halfway through the glass when he and Billy had hurried over to take their names. "No, Miss Rosenberg. I just had to catch the bad guys, we leave the boring stuff to the guys that are supposed to be in suits," he finished with a warm grin, shaking his head slightly as the redhead blushed. "I probably couldn't be involved in the investigation for this anyway."

"Because of your relation to Dr. Eppes, I presume?" an older man spoke up, and Don turned to meet his bespectacled gaze.

At first glance Don had thought the older man sitting next to Summers' mother was probably her father, but now that he looked at the Englishman—the accent gave him away—again he didn't think that was the case.

Still, in response to the man's question, he nodded. "Yeah, the higher ups tend to frown on those kinds of things." Then he cocked his head to the side, "I remember seeing you at the dance, are you with the school, sir?"

Before the Englishman could reply, Charlie jumped in. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, Don." The mathematician waved between him and the group. "Guys, if you didn't know already this is my brother, Don Eppes." Then he indicated the lady sitting next to him and confirmed what Don already knew, "This is Joyce Summers."

Not entirely knowing what to say to the lady—part of the reason he'd been eager to go into Fugitive Recovery was because it meant not having to deal directly with victims and their families most of the time, as any investigation was already done and over with by the time the cases came to his attention—Don nodded to her. "I hope your daughter fares well from all this, Mrs. Summers," he offered a bit lamely as he held out his hand.

The older woman rose from her chair with a sigh—she was the only one who'd remained seated earlier—and accepted his hand with a kind smile. "Thank you... Don, was it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he confirmed, forcing another burst of flavor out of his gum as his brain made the uncomfortable connection as to why this woman seemed so familiar to him. Even knowing she was the victim's mother wasn't it. It was the fact that she very distinctly reminded him of his own mother.

Like he didn't feel guilty enough with just his brother to worry about. Now he had to worry about too much emotional attachment to the other victims.

"Buffy will be sorry she missed you," Mrs. Summers told him, the gentle tilt of her chin and the kind inflection of her voice all distinctly similar to his own mother. She shook her head, "She's wanted to meet you, but this isn't quite what she had in mind."

That explained part of the reason Charlie was obviously so comfortable with the woman. Though it had to put a weird dynamic on his budding relationship with her daughter.

"Unless she's available real soon, she won't be meeting him anyway," a familiar voice drew the group's attention back to the hallway Don had entered from several minutes before.

Don turned with a frown to see his partner standing there, "Coop?" He could see from the set of the older man's brows that he really wasn't happy about something and couldn't for the life of him imagine what. Yeah, it sucked that their fugie had hurt someone, but that didn't seem like the kind of thing that would have Coop steaming in front of innocent people, no matter how hard he was definitely trying to suppress it.

"We gotta go soon, Don," the older agent shook his head.

Something about the way he said it made Don's brain leap to a not quite obvious conclusion, but one that made sense given Billy Cooper's dislike for politics. "Is the mayor—?"

"I think he may've made some calls, but it's not just him," Coop shook his head. "No, we're getting a lotta pressure from someone a lot higher up to get outta Sunnydale. And we've got our perps now, so," he shrugged and then shook his head again. "Don't really have an excuse to stick around. The Statey's have agreed to interview Miss Summers, since I wouldn't trust the locals as far as I could throw 'em after what happened tonight, but that's the best I think I can do here."

"The perps—"

"Are already on their way to LA," Coop cut in with a nod, then gave a disgusted snort. "Though some big-shot lawyer in the city's already taken their case."

"Really?" Don's frown deepened, "That's weird."

It really was. Most 'big-shots,' as Coop defined them, wouldn't tie themselves to a boat that had already sunk: such as three convicts that had just committed another serious crime after breaking out of jail.

"Tell me about it," Coop shook his head, then his eyes turned towards the group of people that was watching a bit anxiously. "I'm sorry for all the trouble, Mrs. Summers." He slipped one hand into an inner coat pocket as he moved towards them, and then handed her his card. "If there's anything we can do to help, please don't hesitate to call me. This is the first time I've met Don's brother, so they can't really claim I'm biased." He nodded to Charlie, "An' nice ta meet ya, by the way, Doc."

"You too," Charlie returned with a small nod, even as he brought a hands up to rub at his temples with a wince.

Looked like little brother was getting a headache, Don realized with another flash of concern as Charlie winced again. He hoped it was just from the stress of the night and didn't turn into a full-blown migraine. He'd always hated seeing Charlie in any kind of pain at all, but the horrible migraines he sometimes got were a lot worse for him then when Charlie was bullied or something. Don could deal with bullies, but he couldn't do anything about Charlie's own head giving him problems.

"You OK, Buddy?" he asked, a little uncertainly as he glanced towards some of the doctors and nurses bustling around. And again he was kind of surprised by just how many people were busy at work in this small hospital. Some of the hospitals in LA didn't have this much traffic late at night.

Charlie blinked at him, clearly startled by the question. Then he gave a slow nod, obviously not nodding quickly for fear of upsetting his head more than it already was. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine," he waved his hand around them with a grimace. "It's, uh, pretty busy here."

Don nodded in agreement even as the younger, also tuxedo-class male—Harris, if Don's memory was right—snorted.

"It's Sunnydale, what'd you expect? Owe!" Harris yelped when his girlfriend planted her elbow in his side. "Wha—oh. Sorry."

Charlie spoke up before either agent could ask about his initial comment.

"Um, Don and... Billy?" Charlie continued after he'd received a nod from his brother's partner. "These are An—Buffy's friends, too. That's Cordelia."

"Hi," Harris's pretty, cheerleader-type girlfriend waved at them cheerily. But the smile didn't reach her dark eyes, which betrayed her clear worry.

"That's Xander."

Harris waved also, though he was still rubbing his side. "Hey."

"Oz."

The teen that looked a little older than the others, probably Charlie's age, with spiked hair, nodded cordially to them but didn't say anything.

"Willow."

"Hello," the redhead smiled at them, but again it didn't quite reach her eyes, which were continually darting over towards the ER's doors.

"Dr. Rupert Giles."

"Good evening," the Englishman nodded to them, too.

"You a friend of the family, doc?" Billy asked, and Mrs. Summers responded before Giles could.

"A good one, yes." Her tone almost dared them to argue, but both agents ignored it. They weren't supposed to be investigating the victims friends and family, anyway.

"And, uh, this is Faith."

Don's eyebrows shot up as he realized this was his brother's other date.

"Hey," the brunette nodded to them. Dressed in a long, dark-blue dress that showed more cleavage than the other girls, she looked a bit older than them. Somehow Don didn't quite believe that, though. It wasn't anything about the way she was acting. If anything, she was the most alert person there—every time someone entered the room, she seemed to know they were coming before they walked through the door—but remembering how she'd shifted away from the cops at the scene, Don suspected she'd had some bad brushes with the law before. Not at all the kind of girl he'd ever expect Charlie to go out with.

But then again it might, like he'd suspected, be a just-as-friends-thing.

Though, as he met her eyes he could almost see her trying to push her wariness back as she forced a smile. She was, apparently, trying to like him. Possibly for Charlie's sake.

Still, no matter how old she might be or what her background was, the girl was definitely _hot_. The overall look her make-up inspired was darker, a bit more dark, than Don was used to liking, but it seemed to suit her. In fact, he probably only really noticed the make up because it kind of emphasized each sharp glance she shot towards the waiting room's doors moments before they opened.

How the Hell did she _do_ that, anyway?

He had to keep reminding himself that he was essentially dealing with a victim, here. She wasn't physically hurt, but she was right next to an obviously very close friend when said friend went down. Hell, he was pretty sure she was the one that caught the blonde.

But something about her put him on edge. Every time she tensed, he tensed, too. If he hadn't seen Billy watching her and tensing a few times, too, he might've thought he'd been under a little too much stress lately and really needed some R&R. Not that he probably didn't anyway, as they been running all over the west coast after numerous parole-violators for the last six weeks are so, and then they'd been called after these convicts, but still...

"You OK, Don?"

Don blinked, his eyes snapping over to his brother, who was frowning at him. He forced a grin to his lips even as he bit down on his gum again, "Yeah. Fine," he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Just been busy lately." He raised an eyebrow at Billy, "Don't s'pose we'll be getting a break soon?"

The senior agent replied with a rueful grin, "The wicked never sleep, my friend—"

"So neither can we, yeah, yeah." Don rolled his eyes as he repeated the phrase that was so frequently bounced around fugitive recovery. Despite the cliché, it did seem to amuse his brother and Summers other friends, though. Which was a good thing.

"You're FBI agents, right?" Mrs. Summers spoke up again, her eyes generally focused on him even though they'd dart towards the ER doors every time someone came out, obviously anxious for her daughter.

"Yes, ma'am," Cooper replied before Don could. "Fugitive Recovery."

"So you go after guys that break out of prison, right?" Xander Harris asked, looking interested, but at the same time a little irritated. It was a strange combination, especially since his friends obviously noticed it too, as his girlfriend slipped her hand into his and the others were all watching him even while Don started answering.

"Actually fugitives are anyone who's running or hiding from the law." Don shrugged at the curious looks that turned his way then, not quite used to talking about his job yet, even after a few months on the job. He honestly tried to avoid discussing it when he called home, and after the first few times his parents had stopped asking too much about it. Though he didn't doubt they still worried, which bothered him, but not nearly enough to switch careers.

The redhead spoke up again, still hesitantly, though the interested look in her eyes reminded him of his brother when the genius had found some new, fascinating mathematical concept to study. Which was a little weird to think about, seeing as Charlie was standing a few feet away from him, one arm around the agitated brunette. "Like, um, people who break their parole?"

Don's attention had been caught—and a little confused—by the sight of his brother obviously trying to comfort the frustrated Faith, so when he'd been quiet a second too long, his partner responded.

"Yup. That one's probably the most common, actually." Cooper told them, grinning easily at their audience. Unlike Don, Coop really liked to brag about their work, even outside of hitting the bars. But then again, Coop didn't call home much, either. "Most people think we're running after escaped convicts most of the time, but parole-violators and bail-skippers are a lot more common."

"But you were supposed to catch the guys that hurt Buffy, right?" Harris spoke up again, his irritation a bit more pronounced, but now at least Don understood where it was coming from.

"Yeah, that's what we do." Don confirmed, keeping his tone as gentle as he could as he nodded.

"Mrs. Summers," Billy spoke up before Xander could get going. "We did receive intel' earlier this evening that several people believed your daughter might be the target, but no one could tell us why. Do you have any idea why three professional hit men would break out of jail to come after your daughter."

Left unspoken was the obvious reason: that someone had put out a hit on her. A pretty big one, if it had gotten three hit-men to work together. The weirder part, though, was that they'd shot her with a dart instead of a bullet.

Mrs. Summers sighed and looked down, shaking her head slightly as she replied, "I honestly have no idea," her shoulders seemed to sink under the weight of definite stress and weariness that made Don feel bad from her.

But he still knew she was lying. It was obvious in the way she suddenly avoided eye-contact, and his gut caught it right away. And from looking at the rest of the assembled –suddenly nervous—friends, it was pretty clear they knew, too.

He opened mouth to question it, but stopped when Charlie suddenly caught his eyes. The wary worry in his brother's eyes made Don pause as an unhappy realization settled in.

Thinking back on the way his brother had acted in the club and to the way he was acting it now, it was fairly obvious to Don that Charlie knew what was going on, too.

Don wasn't sure what to say to that right away. Part of him wanted to demand answers, while the other part really didn't want to know what his genius-kid-brother might be involved in.

Before he could decide what to do, though, his partners phone rang.

"Billy Cooper," Coop answered his phone, his tone short even as his shoulder's drew up for the second response. "Yeah, boss. Got it, but—" he stopped, frowning severely as their boss obviously cut him off. A few seconds later he nodded, sounding all the more weary as he spoke again. "Yeah, boss. I got it... Yup. Bye." He snapped his phone close with a sigh, then shook his head as he met Don's eyes. "We've gotta go."

"But—"

"I _know_, Eppes," Coop snapped, then shook his head again. "But the Statey's are gonna handle this. Boss wants us back in LA. _Now_."

Don closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again to turn back to his brother with a frown. "I'll call later, OK?"

Charlie nodded, and Don really hoped it was his imagination that made his little brother looked so relieved at his departure. "Yeah, Don... And thanks."

"My cell's on there, Mrs. Summers," Billy pointed out, nodding to the card that was still in the older woman's hand. "Please don't hesitate to call me if you think of anything."

"Thank you," Joyce Summers nodded in response, the warm smile that—was somehow both sincere and forced—she offered them again reminded Don of his own mother. "It was nice to meet you both." Her eyes then focused on Don. "Buffy really will be sorry she missed you. But I know she's planning on visiting your parents in LA a few times this summer, maybe you could coordinate visits?"

Don found he didn't quite have to force a smile in response, "I'm sure my Mom and Dad'll make a bid for it." He reached out a hand to catch his brother's shoulder again, just as Cooper's cell phone rang again.

"Bill—Yeah, we're leaving, boss." Coop shot him an annoyed look that he knew wasn't directed at him even as the other agent started to make his way out of the room. "Seriously, we'll...We are leaving. Really."

Shaking his head, Don gave his brother's shoulder another quick squeeze, "Talk to you later, alright." Then he turned on his heel and walked quickly after his partner, a deep frown working its way onto his face as his mind ran through everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

Though a part of him really hoped their boss's slightly uncharacteristic impatience didn't mean they already had another case. Though it probably did, as their boss wasn't the most patient of men at the best of times, but usually wasn't all that bad after they'd successfully caught the guys he'd sent them after.

He really did need some R&R.

And he'd like to know what the Hell was going on with Charlie's friends...

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**General Hospital, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 13, 1996**_

Charlie sighed as he glanced towards the door again. Mrs. Summers had sent Willow, Xander, Oz and Cordelia home hours ago, shortly after they'd been admitted to Annie's room, with Dr. Giles' support. She'd tried to send Giles, Faith and Charlie home, too, but couldn't really play the concerned-parent card with Giles and Charlie and Faith were not above calling her a hypocrite when she tried to send them home.

Still, Faith had finally given into her frustration and decided to go take her anger out on Sunnydale's demon population. She was furious enough, and had kept it so pent up for several hours, that Charlie had almost found himself feeling bad for any demons and vampires she encounter.

He'd had an _awful_ hard time keeping her calm most of the evening and her fluctuating emotions had given him a headache. Though it'd been a lot worse when Don, Billy Cooper and all of the Scoobies were here. _Way_ too much worry, confusion and frustration in the small room for his still developing senses. Especially when he was pretty sure he was feeling all of that on his own, just from not being able to sense anything from Annie.

As the only Watcher in Sunnydale, Giles hadn't _wanted_ to leave Annie's side either. But he couldn't let the furious Faith go off on her own, either. Nor could he, reasonably, keep her pent up—pacing like a wounded panther—in the small hospital room.

It had made the exceedingly nice and helpful hospital staff nervous. Especially when she accidentally broke the window—that really wasn't supposed to open half the distance she'd managed, but couldn't withstand Slayer-strength—and then the armrest of her chair.

Obviously anger had a pronounced affect on a Slayer's ability to control herself. Which made sense in a fight, he guessed, but hadn't been good for these circumstances.

So Faith had stormed out of the hospital, with Giles hurrying after her, several hours ago. Seeing as the sun was already rising, he was more than a little surprised she hadn't come back yet.

Maybe Giles had actually convinced her into going home to bed, but somehow he suspected she'd been Slaying for the last five hours and would soon return here, an exhausted Watcher in her wake.

The hospital staff really had been awful helpful. He was pretty sure, that it wasn't commonly allowed for so many people to stay with a patient. Nor did he think it usual for the nurses to bring coffee and snacks to the anxious friends and family. But he'd seen about a dozen different nurses and three different doctors stop by to check on Buffy _and_ whoever was in her room in the last six hours. Actually, he realized with another glance at the clock, they seemed to be checking in on them at least every half hour, so one should be stopping by soon...

A sound at the door made him look up, forcing a small smile as he expected to see another nurse or doctor—not Faith and Giles because there was _no way_ he could miss Faith's approach, considering the maelstrom of violent emotions that were probably still radiating off of her—there, but that smile quickly gave way to confusion at who was actually there.

He blinked for a moment as he tiredly tried to remember the man's name. Numbers and codes and puzzles he was good at. Very good at. Names—and spelling—he was not. Not remotely.

"Mr. ... Collins?"

The Watchers Council operative nodded, his expression and tone supremely neutral as he replied, "Good morning, Doctor Eppes." His words were soft as he glanced towards Annie's bed, where the Slayer was still unconscious, with her mother having dozed off next to her some time before. He stepped into the room and gestured towards Annie's mom, muttering something under his breath as he did so, before gesturing to Charlie, too.

Charlie felt the exhaustion of the last several hours suddenly hit him again, all at once, and his eyelids started to droop. He probably would've dozed off earlier himself, if he wasn't so disconcerted about not being able to feel anything from Annie. And if his empathetic senses hadn't responded to this by latching onto all the emotion it could find nearby. Which in a hospital was, unsurprisingly, a _lot_. Though he wasn't sensing much from Alastair Collins, which made him wonder if people associated with organizations that were aware of magic knew about some way of shielding themselves in some way, but he shook his head as the Watchers operative spoke up again.

Still, with exhaustion dragging his eyelids down just then, he probably would've fallen asleep immediately, if a burst of energy and an irritated growl from Sineya hadn't stopped him. When he looked back at Collins, the man looked a bit surprised, but quickly regained his composure.

"Has Miss Summers regained consciousness, yet?"

He still couldn't sense the Englishman's emotions, but somehow he didn't think the man was surprised when Charlie shook his head. "No. She hasn't." He sighed. "I don't think the doctors even know what's wrong. They said the dart she was hit with had a really high concentration of muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressors in it, but," he shook his head and sighed again. "They couldn't even figure out what the drugs themselves were. Beyond the basic effects they had, I mean."

"The doctors ran a blood test?"

Charlie couldn't cheat and read the man's emotions, but he was pretty sure he heard disapproval in the older man's voice, and it didn't take a genius IQ level to realize why. He wasn't sure why he lied in response. "No. Mrs. Summers wouldn't let them. But Faith pulled the dart out of Buffy's neck before all of it had gone in, so they tested that and just kept responding to—" Charlie sent a worried glance towards Annie, and found the image of her lying there—pale and to all appearances lifeless—just as disturbing as it had been the first time he entered the room, and every time since then. "She was having trouble breathing. And her heart stopped once."

He'd felt that. Even though Annie wasn't emotionally conscious of it—wasn't transmitting what she was feeling at the time—he had felt her body's physical distress. Though he was pretty sure Sineya was actually shielding him from most of it.

"That's not surprising," Collins told him, his tone now much more gentle. "Physically, her powers get a massive boost from adrenaline, so the suppressors would leave her severely handicapped. And the second most important part of the Slayer's physical make-up is her muscles, which are understandably much stronger and more enduring then an ordinary human beings. But the muscle relaxants would also effectively weaken that additional strength by targeting the source."

Charlie's frown deepened, "But...aren't her powers magical?"

Collins nodded, "Yes. But though her Calling grants her considerable power, the Slayer still has many human weaknesses. Any of which may be targeted at any time." He cocked his head to the side, looking thoughtful. "Though the dart's particular cocktail suggests a rather keen awareness of a Slayer's biological weaknesses." His eyes suddenly came up to meet Charlie's again. "Are you aware of any particular enemies the Slayers have made? _Human_ enemies?"

Charlie blinked, "Umm... Did Dr. Giles tell you—"

"We are aware of all that occurred last night, yes." The Council operative nodded again, "We have the Gruenstahler brothers and their employer in custody. The Misquot-demon's remains have also been dealt with." Then his neutral expression slipped a bit as a frown emerged, "Though the vampire Trick is proving to be rather elusive. And the men in FBI custody are understandably more difficult to detain. I understand they were supposedly hired by Trick?"

"That's what Jungle Bob—he was in the forest, Faith and Buffy questioned him, but then knocked him out—that's what he said." Then Charlie frowned, "Though he didn't seem to think Trick had actually called the other hit men. And they only broke out of jail a few days ago, so..."

"Calling for them would seem a bit strange, yes." Collins agreed with another nod. "They merely knocked this 'Jungle Bob' unconscious?"

"Yeah, Buffy punched him." Charlie grimaced, "she really couldn't do anything else. There were a lot of others hunting us, so we had to run and he was human so…" the mathematician shrugged.

"Slayers are not supposed to kill humans," Collins nodded again. "I will send a team into the woods to ascertain the final hunter's fate." This his face became completely neutral again, before he continued. "Do you know where the dart that Miss Summers was hit with is?"

"Umm, no. I mean, the hospital had a sample of it but—" Charlie shook his head. "The FBI probably kept it, right?"

"That is likely," Collins nodded again. Then he leaned back through the doorway, looking both ways, before entering the room and closing the door behind him. He then held his hand over the doorknob for a moment, muttering something Charlie could understand. When he turned away from the door, and came around to Charlie's side of Annie's bed—undoubtedly mindful of Mrs. Summer's exhausted, sleeping form on the opposite side—Charlie could see that the doorknob was emitting a faint blue glow.

"What—" the mathematician was frowning deeply as he rose, glancing between the door and the representative of the Watchers Council as the Englishman pulled a long, thin plastic case out of a deep pocket in his dark jacket. "What are you doing?"

"Mr. Caldwell indicated you wished to know why we were not more proactive in helping the Slayer." The Englishman replied, though his eyes were focused on the combination-lock that kept his small case closed. "For the most part, sadly, it's pure politics. But we do help wherever we can. When the Council, itself, will allow it."

That didn't dismiss Charlie's frown, "_Allow_ it?"

Collins nodded as he finally finished the combination code for the case and popped it open. "And the majority of the Council believes that intervention, for this problem, is both acceptable and necessary."

"OK, uh," Charlie shook his head. "What exactly does that mean?" When Collins pulled a large needle full of some kind of liquid out of the case, Charlie was out of his chair and between the Watcher and Annie's bed before he even registered moving. "What are you doing?" He demanded, a surge of panic making him raise his voice. But when he—perhaps foolishly—looked away from the Watcher to Joyce Summers, he saw that she was still asleep. Turning to glare at the operative, fueled in part by Sineya's obvious dislike of him, he demanded, "What did y—"

"Relax, Doctor." Collins' raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, though one of them still carefully held onto the large needle. "I'm not going to hurt her. And Mrs. Summers is merely sleeping." Moving the hand that contained the needle, to indicate it, "From Dr. Giles recent report, we determined that a cocktail similar to what you described was undoubtedly used to incapacitate the Slayer. This is simply meant to help Miss Summers overcome that cocktail. To help her wake up sooner than she otherwise might."

"But—"

"Though there were no vampires at the school dance, many people still saw Miss Summers being loaded into that ambulance. They will talk. And though they only think of us, for the most part, as food, vampires do listen to gossip." Collins lowered his hands to slip the container back in his pocket, before moving to step around Charlie. "The Slayer cannot be left incapacitated for long, especially not on the Hellmouth."

When he saw Collins moving to remove the cap on the needle, and looking at the IV that Annie was plugged into, again Charlie moved without thinking, reaching out to grab the older man's wrist.

_Exasperation _and then sudden_ surprise_ registered immediately, in the brief instant of contact with the other man's skin, as Charlie's empathetic senses were suddenly flooded by the emotional presence he couldn't feel before. But he couldn't remotely get a handle on anything else he was sensing before he the man's wrist suddenly slipped out of his hold, and an instant later Charlie suddenly found himself bent over in almost familiar, uncomfortably awkward position with the older man's arm locked around his throat, joined a moment later by Collins' empty hand settling on the back of his head to push his head and neck forward into the crook of the Watchers' elbow.

Even as his suddenly frantic mind was running through the numbers on how long it took a person to choke to death—which he'd researched shortly after Gunn had tried to teach him a chokehold—and Sineya, for some reason wanted him to move his elbows—he couldn't breathe and she wanted him to move his _elbows?!_—more emotions hit his empathetic senses through the contact of the man's hand on the back of his head even as he kept trying to pull the man's arm away, his hands slipping repeatedly over the Watcher's sleeve.

_Surprise_ gave way to _acceptance_, then begrudging, but slightly amused _respect_.

And suddenly Charlie was free again, able to stumble forward away from the Watcher, who held onto one of his shoulders till he found his feet and was able to spin around of his own accord. Charlie stared at him even as he pulled heavy gasps of air into his now sore throat.

Collins spoke before he could, a speculative look in his eyes. "You're an empath."

That made Charlie blink. The man had just started choking him to death and _that_ was the first thing he said after letting him go? Charlie shook his head.

Collins chuckled, "You can't deny it, Dr. Eppes. I sensed your empathetic attack. All Watchers are trained to shield against telepaths and empaths, but it's nearly impossible to do with direct physical contact. Particularly not with an empath as strong as yourself."

"I'm not—" Charlie stopped when the Watcher raised an eyebrow at him. "Why did you..."

"Sorry about that," Collins shrugged, shaking his head and actually allowing a slightly sheepish expression to take hold of his face for a moment. "But in the future, you really shouldn't try to grab someone with my training and experience. Especially not by surprise. That move is kind of instinctive for me. At least when I'm not more heavily armed and expecting attacks, then my response would undoubtedly be much more dangerous." Tilting his head towards Annie's bed, he added, "As, I'm sure, a Slayer's would be. Though she's much more dangerous without weapons than any human can be."

Charlie shook his head, "An—Buffy wouldn't—"

"They _would_, Doctor. If you surprised them at a bad moment, something bad would almost certainly happen." Collins cut in firmly, his expression hardening. "Though the Council does have protocols and directives for those kinds of situations."

"What do you m—"

"But enough on that, Miss Summers does need this," the Watcher indicated the still full needle that he'd apparently set on her bedside table sometime in between when Charlie had tried to grab him and when he'd released him. "I can't drop my shields so close to the Hellmouth. But I will allow you to read my emotions now, if you'd like."

Charlie looked at the hand the man held out towards him, more than a little uncertain. After all, he hadn't consciously decided to try to read the man's emotions that way before. He hadn't even known physical contact could overcome the shielding he'd suspect—and now knew—that the Watcher had. Which was probably something like what the lawyers from _Wolfram and Hart_ had, now that he thought about it. He shook his head, "I don't—"

"She needs the antidote, Dr. Eppes. The Slayer's healing-abilities could undoubtedly overcome a much lower dose, or even several lower doses, given time. And I don't doubt she could recover from this on her own, given time. But she does not _have_ that time." Collins raised his open hand a little higher. "Please."

After a long moment of silence—during which Sineya was indicating her favor of this idea—Charlie sighed and took several hesitant steps forward. "Okay..." and reaching up, he lightly grasped hold of the older man's hand with two of his, closing his eyes as the flood of emotions hit him again, taking the time to process them.

First and foremost came the _acceptance_ he'd felt earlier. Behind it was the lingering _respect_ and no small amount of _worry_.

Nothing negative. No deceit or hate. Not even any dislike or suspicion.

Sineya finally stopped growling.

Charlie opened his eyes, stepping back after releasing the man's hand, and nodded as he did so. "OK. How does this work?"

"What's in this, ya mean?" Collins shrugged as he moved over to the table to pick the needle up again. "No clue. But I watched a healer I trust put it together, so I know it'll work. And it won't hurt her."

"A healer?" the mathematician asked a little uncertainly. "You mean a witch, making something magical—"

"Rather than anything scientific, yeah. Something like that." Collins nodded again. "Now, since she's already recovering on her own, she definitely doesn't need this whole does." So saying, he stuck the need into the IV attached to Annie's arm, depressing the plunger until about a third of the needle's contents had gone all the way into the tube that several nurses had given her similar injections earlier. "But I'll be tellin' the Council that she did and leavin' the rest a this with you."

Again, Charlie had to blink in confusion. "W-Why?" then it hit him, "You think they'll attack again?"

The man replied as he pulled the still mostly full needle out and put the cap back on, his back to Charlie. "Something like that." He was grinning as he turned back around. "Always prepare for the worst and hope for the best, right?"

Charlie shook his head. "I guess..."

Taking the container out of his pocket, he put the needle back inside and closed it, turning the lock to reseal it before holding it out to Charlie. "The combination's seven—"

"Seven, thirty-three and eighteen," Charlie cut him off without even thinking about it as he accepted the case, then shrugged when the man raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm good at remembering numbers, and the angles on those things aren't hard to keep track of."

Collins nodded slowly, a small smile making its way onto his face. "Even without knowing you're an empath, the Council didn't doubt that someone of your IQ could be a great asset to the Slayers." He cocked his head to the side, "In fact, I wouldn't be too surprised if you received an offer to join the actual Council within the next few years. Though probably not while Miss Summers is the Slayer."

"Why not?"

"You care about the current Slayers too much."

Charlie frowned again, "Dr. Giles—"

"Knows better than to become too emotionally attached to his Slayers." Collins shook his head, "That's been a part of Council regulations for centuries. We support the Slayer in her Calling. No more, no less." Before Charlie could think of anything to say to that, he continued. "I won't be reporting your empathetic abilities to the Council, it'd be best if you could keep those a secret."

Charlie was getting a little tired of blinking in surprise, but he did it anyway. "Why?"

"You're human. And humans who are naturally empathetic are exceedingly rare. But all the human empaths that history knows of were quite a bit more powerful than most demonic-empaths and telepaths. And prized for that reason." Shaking his head, Collins reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small notebook and a pen. Turning to an empty page he quickly scrawled down several things, before ripping the page out and handing it to Charlie. "That's the contact info for me and most of my team. The Council doesn't track any of it, our mages makes sure of that." He sighed, "And you'll probably see whoever was behind this, again. Since the dart actually managed to hit Miss Summers, it had to be enchanted. That's something our mages can help with, too. Dr. Giles should call for help if that's the case. If you, Dr. Eppes, run into any trouble, call us."

Then he turned on his heel and left. The doorknob stopped glowing immediately, and as Charlie sank back into his seat near Annie's bed.

As he watched her, Charlie suddenly remembered why Sineya had wanted him to move his elbows. According to Gunn—he'd been taught even as the _Watch_ leader tried to teach him an actual chokehold—driving his elbow back into someone's gut was a good way to escape a chokehold. Charlie rubbed at his sore throat, wincing a little as he did so. No matter how debatable the effectiveness of said trick might be on vampires, it probably would have been a good thing to remember earlier.

"Good morning," the familiar, cheery voice of one of the hospital's nurses made Charlie start, but he forced himself to relax and pull his hand away from his throat at the nurse ran a quick check of Annie's vitals and Joyce started to wake up.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 _

_**General Hospital, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 13, 1996**_

Buffy moaned lightly as she stared coming to. Her entire body felt sore and tired. Something she hadn't experienced in _years_. Even before becoming the Slayer, it'd take a pretty brutal work out to wear her out this much.

"Annie?"

She winced at the definite note of concern in Charlie's voice, which she felt quite clearly across their bond. Forcing her eyes open, which was surprisingly difficult. It almost felt like someone had super-glued her eyelashes down, or something like that.

It took a few seconds, but finally she managed and slowly turned her eyes in the direction Charlie's voice had come from, to meet his gaze.

"Hey..." she offered weakly.

"Hi sleepy head," Charlie smiled down at her, though there was still definitely a lot of worry in his eyes and on his mind. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired... And achy." Buffy tried to shake her head in response, but stopped as she realized that'd take a lot more effort than it should. "What hit me?"

Charlie sighed, and shook his head. "The guys my brother was looking for were waiting for us outside of The Bronze. You tried to catch the dart they shot at you, remember?"

Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, trying to call the memory up. As the events of last night came sluggishly back to her, she opened them again. "Wasn't aimed at me. Aimed at Faith. But it moved—hit me."

"The Watchers Council thinks that whoever hired them might've used magic."

Buffy felt her face contracted in a slight wince. "Hate magic. It's cool when Debs and Cons do it, but..."

"But you don't like fighting it," Charlie nodded in understanding, before raising an eyebrow. "Debs and Cons?"

"Leave me alone, I'm tired and feel like crap." Buffy finished by sticking her tongue out at him. Though, like him, she'd probably never actually call the two witches by those nicknames. Their long, fancy names really seemed to suit them too much.

"Sorry," Charlie replied, though he was grinning.

Buffy closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again, frowning slightly as she realized they were the only ones in the hospital room. "Where's...Mom? And—"

"The nurses talked your mom into going down to the cafeteria for a quick supper. Dr. Giles is with Faith on her patrol, again. And Willow dragged everyone else home to finish their homework for tomorrow."

That didn't make Buffy feel much better. "How long was I out for?"

Charlie sighed, "It's almost seven. They brought you in just before eleven o'clock last night. So just shy of twenty hours." The mathematician looked down for a second, shaking his head before he looked up. "One of the Watchers Council guys—Mr. Collins—he came last night and gave you a shot of something. Said it would help."

"So this is how I feel _with_ the antidote for whatever poison they hit me with?" Buffy groaned softly. "_Damn_." Then noticing an uncomfortable, scratchy feeling in the back of her throat, she asked softly. "Could I have some water, please?"

"Sure," she heard Charlie jump up and move away, and winced as she felt the distance between them quite clearly along their bond. The sound of running water started nearby, then stopped, and Charlie hurried back a few seconds later. "Here."

As he gently slipped an arm behind her shoulders, supporting her neck with his hand, she struggled to push herself up and was more than a little aghast that Charlie had to pull her up almost entirely on his own. Still, she opened her eyes to look down at the small cup of water he was holding before her, and opened her mouth as he brought it against her lips, tipping it slightly to pour a small amount of water into her throat. She wanted to bring an arm up to hold the cup herself, but found that even trying to raise her arm slightly took too much effort. She moaned when Charlie took the cup away.

"Shh," Charlie's voice was soft, and still worried as he continued. "You can't drink too fast, OK? Do you want more?"

"Yah," Buffy confirmed softly, taking a deep breath before he brought the cup to her lips again and poured more water into her mouth. They repeated that process several times, until she finished the relatively small cup. Then, after Charlie had helped her lay back and then took his seat next to her again, the empty cup on the bedside table, she asked, "Did you have dinner yet?"

Charlie shook his head, smiling slightly. "The nurse thought I was asleep, and she didn't want to wake me since I didn't sleep last night." The bags under his eyes lent credence to his claims. "They'll probably bring me something the next time they check in on you in the next half-hour or so. They brought us breakfast and lunch today, but I guess they wanted to make your Mom walk around a bit, or something."

"You should go too." Buffy told him, slowly forcing the soft words to form, her face aching with the effort. "Could tell 'er I'm awake."

Charlie shook his head again. "I'm fine." His smile widened a little then, "It's real nice to see you awake, though. I couldn't even sense you when you were unconscious." He looked down with a sigh, "It kind of scared me."

"'M sorry."

He looked up, frowning and shaking his head. "Don't be. It's not your fault." He glanced towards the door then, rising a little as someone else entered the room. "She's awake."

"I'll let Dr. Owen know."

Buffy turned just in time to see a gray-haired nurse leaving the room, and sighed as she let her eyes close again.

"You can't go to sleep again, yet," Charlie told her mildly. "The doctor might think I was lying."

"I'm awake," Buffy replied softly. Even though it was taking quite a bit of focus to remain so.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**General Hospital, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 13, 1996**_

Charlie smiled several hours later as Annie's eyes opened again.

She'd put up with the doctors and nurses moving her around and asking questions. Received a hug from her mother much more happily. And then, with a smiling doctor's permission, promptly gone back to sleep.

Three hours later—when he should've been home, and several hours after his parents would have picked him up if he hadn't called them earlier in the day—she looked a lot better.

"Hey, sleepy head," he greeted her again.

Annie smiled in return, "Hi Charlie." Then she looked around, again, with a frown that Charlie interpreted with surprising ease.

"Your Mom ran home to make sure the gallery was alright without her tomorrow. Dr. Giles is patrolling with Faith. Willow, Oz, Cordelia and Xander are supposedly home in bed because it's a school night."

"Oh." After another long moment, Annie nodded. "OK. Shouldn't you be—"

"I don't have anywhere to be this week. Not really." Charlie shook his head. "So my Dad's going to pick me up on Wednesday."

A noise from the door made both of them turn to blink as a huge bouquet of flowers came through in the arms of a nurse in pale pink scrubs.

"Looks like someone's hoping you get better soon, deary," the nurse commented as she gently set the flowers down on the table nearest the window. After checking to make sure the pricey looking vase was safely placed on the table, and the flowers within neatly arranged, the nurse gave them both a warm smile before leaving again.

Charlie blinked in surprise, more than a little bewildered, as Annie gave him a warm smile. He shook his head as he realized that the vibrant arrangement of autumn-shades of orange and yellow, sporadically broken by pale pink roses, did closely resemble the bouquet he'd sent her a few weeks ago.

"Charlie?"

Again, the mathematician shook his head, "They look like the ones I picked out for you a while back. But you got those already. Your mom's still weaning as much time as she can out of them."

"You didn't—"

"I didn't think of it when we couldn't see you. I saw my brother off before you were moved into here, and I haven't left your side since," Charlie gave her an apologetic smile. "Honestly, I haven't thought of it. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the Slayer shook her head. Though he could sense a bit of disappointment from her at the revelation that he hadn't sent them, she also seemed a little pleased for some reason. Nodding towards the bouquet, she raised an eyebrow. "So who're they from?"

"I don't—" Charlie shook his head as he rose, moving around her bed to reach the flowers. "Willow and the others have all been here on and off, and they didn't mention—oh. There's a card," he pulled the folded piece of paper out of the careful arrangement and brought it over to her.

Handing it to her, Charlie leaned down to read over her shoulder as she opened it. Matching frowns found their way onto both of their faces as they read the words that were penned in a neat, unfamiliar handwriting inside.

_**Best wishes for a prompt recovery to Miss Buffy Summers.**_

_**We trust our point has been made. **_

_**Hopefully our future interactions will be more fruitful.**_

_**Ads Condemn Idyll**_

"Huh," Buffy shook her head, frowning at the note. "Weird message. Doesn't say who it's from, either. And what's 'ads condemn idyll' supposed to mean? Is that even English?"

Charlie took the card back from her and scrutinized the words within for several seconds of puzzled silence, his brow furrowing in concentration.

Annie let him mumble to himself for several seconds before she asked again, "Well? Any ideas? I don't think that's your mom or dad's handwriting... Is it Don's?" She clearly didn't have a clue as to why Charlie's brother might send her a message like that, but the handwriting was completely foreign to her, too, so it wasn't someone she knew. But it wasn't a handwriting he recognized, either. "Charlie?"

"Huh? Oh, no." The genius blinked, and then shook his head. "No, it's not Don." Looking the words over again, he nodded to himself and a deeper frown settled firmly across his face as he remembered Agent Coopers words about a 'big shot lawyer in LA' defending the guys that had attacked Annie.

"Charlie?"

After a moment, he sighed, "It is signed. With an anagram."

"A what?" the still slightly woozy Slayer blinked at him.

"An anagram," Charlie repeated, nodding to the card in her hand. He started to reach for it, but stopped and withdrew his hand again when he saw it was shaking. "The letters of the last sentence rearrange into a name."

Annie blinked again, glancing down at the confusing last sentence with a frown before she looked back up at her friend again. "Who's name?"

"Lindsey McDonald."

**

* * *

**

End of

_**Chapter 9: Mortal Peril – Part IV.**_**

* * *

**

AN: Dun-Dun-Dunnnn.

**I thought that rounded off **_**Mortal Peril**_** pretty well, what'd you think? :-D**

**And it's not even a cliffhanger. **

**Well it kinda is, but not really, really.**

**I wanted to add in a scene with the actual doctors, but never managed to figure out something that actually worked well. I also wanted to have Don come barging in when Collins was choking Charlie, but that wouldn't have worked with the storyline, so I stopped myself. **

**...Though it was, again, a bit longer than I'd originally planned. -_-***

**Nonetheless, I think that turned out pretty well, though, what'd you think?**

**From within the chapter itself:**

**(1) I actually already knew 9.8 m/s(squared)****—science classes are good for something, occasionally—but I confirmed it on Wikipedia.**

**(2) I know almost NO German, so I spent a rather long time looking for an appropriate swear word translated into German. This is, supposedly, 'bitch'. **

**...And that's all, I guess.**

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 10: Frienemies – Part I.**_


	11. Chapter 10: Frienemies P1 of 3

**Disclaimers: ****Buffy the Vampire Slayer**** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. ****Numb3rs**** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)**

**AN: OK, this time I'm going to recommend a PRIDE & PREJUDICE one-shot on called ****An Infamous Conversation**** by ****Chelsfanfiction**** to anyone who likes P&P fics. The author gives us an example of what the conversation between Lady Catherine and Mr. Darcy might have been like after Lady Catherine confronted Elizabeth at Longbourn and Mr. Darcy arrived there himself. And again, I'd still love any recommendations you anyone can offer me to read.**

**Warnings: Spoiler warnings really seem a little stupid to me, especially since "Revelations," the seventh episode of the third season of BTVS came out ****years**** ago, but it's still possible someone might've just started making their way through the series, so if that's the case: there's your warning. This part of the series takes place almost a decade before the first season of NUMB3RS, so the fact that it's still playing really isn't relevant. Though there may be some spoilers in the series, I've yet to see any. Nor can I think of anything else you might want to be warned about. But if I'm wrong and you see something you would've liked a warning on, please tell me so I can put it in here and keep it in mind for future reference. Thank you. **

**Thanks again to **_**NeverTooOld**_** for beta-reading! ^_^**

**And enjoy the long-awaited chapter! ^_^**

* * *

**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 10: Frienemies**_

_**Part I**_

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Sunnydale, California – Monday, October 20, 1997**_

Buffy rolled her eyes at the younger Slayer's antics. "It really wasn't that funny."

"You think your Mom'll ever let you drive again?" Faith asked with a grin. But at least she wasn't laughing anymore. "'Cause you did a pretty good job of wrecking her SUV."

"I have high hopes that Mom will block everything related to the whole band candy thing out," the older Slayer sighed. "_Including_ the accident after she gave me her keys."

"She and G-man acting like kids was pretty funny," the brunette commented, still grinning. "Not as funny as your mucho-Gestapo principal hitting on you and Red at the Bronze, of course, but pretty close. And I still say your Mom and G-man were getting it on."

"Ugh," Buffy winced. "I really am trying to forget all of that, you know. Especially Snyder in the Bronze, but Giles and my mom aren't that high up there either."

Faith laughed, shaking her head. "Whatever you say, B. Personally, I wish we'd at least taped some of it. _Great_ blackmail, you know."

Again, Buffy rolled her eyes. "I guess," then she glanced at the entrance of the cemetery they were entering. Not that she really needed to. After years of nightly patrols she knew Sunnydale like the back of her hand, but it never hurt to check landmarks. "Though you might want to think of something else to talk about, since Giles is supposed to meet us here soon."

"Yeah, he thinks the whole gang that was buried today's gonna rise, right? Not that that's hard to figure, since they all 'bled to death' after being stabbed with 'barbeque forks.'" She shook her head. "You know, it's stuff like that that really makes me wonder how much the good people of Sunnydale are really able to fool themselves. I mean, with all the people that are supposedly killed with barbeque forks around here, you wouldn't think people'd use them."

"But they do," Buffy nodded. "I know what you mean."

Faith was smiling slightly as she shook her head. Then she frowned. "Why's G-man meeting us out here, though? We've handled staking out cemeteries on our own tons of times."

Buffy shrugged, "I think he might be trying to redeem himself, or something. Cause of the band candy."

"Oh," Faith nodded. "Makes sense. I guess."

They walked in silence for a moment, before Faith spoke up again.

"So how's Math-man?"

Buffy blinked twice in rapid succession, before raising an eyebrow and shaking her head a she replied, "Math-man?"

"What? I needed a better nickname then C-man. G-man works cause he's our authority figure guy. X-man because Harris is inta that kind of stuff. C-man didn't work, cause he's not an average kinda guy and I can't call him A-plus-plus-man, cause that's not a nickname." The brunette shrugged. "But math is, like, his super power. So Math-man fits. Especially after all the stuff he gave G-man to help with our patrols before he left. And that program he set-up for us to report our patrols on."

"Yeah," Buffy chuckled, shaking her head again, this time in agreement. Though she'd have to make sure Charlie didn't hear about this until she was there to see his reaction. With a camera. "It fits. And he's fine. Still a bit paranoid, but _Wolfram and Hart_ hasn't done anything else."

"It's not paranoid if they're really out ta get ya, B." Faith pointed out quietly. "And he did prove that the weird line could be one of those mix-up-things for the lawyer-guy's name. Twice. Though I actually got it the first time."

"I know, I did too. But its been almost two weeks since we got that message and they haven't done anything. Not here, and not in LA since Charlie got back there a week ago." That was a fact that Buffy was honestly thankful for, but it still didn't make much sense to her.

Again, Faith shrugged. "Well, their threat was more of a 'don't cross us again, or else' then a 'we're gonna get ya,' wasn't it?"

Buffy blinked, then frowned as she went over the weirdly worded message again, for what was probably the hundredth time. Then she nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it was." Then they rounded the bend in the wall around the cemetery to where the plot of new graves they were supposed to be watching was and her eyebrows snapped together as an irritated frown stole her face. "Giles! I _told_ you to wait for us at the gate or come after eleven!"

The Watcher sighed and shook his head as he set his travel-mug—that was undoubtedly full of steaming hot tea—down on the large grave he'd been sitting on. "I assure you, Buffy, I am quite—"

"If you wanted us to stake these graves out earlier, why didn't you say so?"

"Capable of taking care of myself," Giles continued and finished after her interruption. "There was no reason—"

"And what if all four of these guys came up at once?"

The Watcher shot a look at the still silent—but obviously amused—younger Slayer, before sighing as he returned his gaze to the irritated elder. "That is highly unlikely, Buffy. For it to occur, all four would need to have been turned at the exact same—or at least very near—time."

Before Buffy could answer that, Faith cut in. "Well what if their sires decided to come greet them? The older ones still tend to do that, ya know."

"The older masters do, yes. But we've had no indication of particularly dangerous master-vampires near the Hellmouth for quite some time." The Watcher told them, and Buffy frowned at the small amount of defensiveness she could hear in his tone. Though he actually hid it pretty well, by taking a sip of hi s tea immediately afterwards, she still sensed it quite clearly. "Now—"

A familiar, dirty, creepy-crawling feeling from her Slay-dar stole her attention, and Giles stopped abruptly as both Slayers stiffened, spinning towards the graves they'd come to stake the occupants of.

"Looks like we came just in time," Faith commented with a smirk.

"Looks like," Buffy agreed as four different pairs of hands started to claw their ways out of the recently laid graves. "And they're all comin' up at the same time, too."

"Yes, Buffy," Giles sighed. "I shall endeavor to be more cautious with my own well being in the future. Does that satisfy you?"

Buffy shrugged, "Little bit." Then she darted forward at the vamp on the far right as Faith went for the one on the far left, while the two in the middle kept struggling to get themselves out of the ground.

About a minute later, Buffy drew her stake back out of the last vamp, and shared a grin with Faith as the two vampires they'd just simultaneously staked back-to-back turned to dust.

"Still," Faith comments, grinning as she twirls a stake in her hand. "We're gettin' pretty good at the synchronized slaying, aren't we?

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I—" she stopped, frowning in confusion as a vaguely familiar, itchy-dirty feeling hit her senses. At first she thought it was just empathetically, but Faith tensed a second after she did.

"Buffy, Faith what—" Giles stopped and turned as both Slayers focused their attention on an approaching figure.

Buffy didn't try to stop the frown that crossed her face, matched by the ones on Giles and Faith's as well. She couldn't sense the woman's emotions, which was never reassuring. According to Charlie, they could see through the shields she had up with physical contact, but the woman would probably be aware of her probing. At least, Collins had been able to. But her Slay-dar didn't like the woman because she stank of dark-magic. Cocking her head to the side as the woman reached them, she raised an eyebrow as she asked, "Can we help you?"

"Your senses are impressive given the vicinity of the Hellmouth," the woman commented, her British accent serving as another possible link to the distant Watchers Council. "Though your technique is a bit sloppy and over dramatic."

Buffy felt both her Watcher and sister-Slayer glance at her, but she kept her eyes on the haughty newcomer. "Can we help you, Ms—?"

"Gwendolyn Post, Mrs.," the older blonde replied smoothly, drawing her shoulders back as she glanced between the two Slayers. "Which one of you is Faith?"

Buffy replied before Faith could, "Depends, who are you?"

"I've al—"

"Your name doesn't mean anything to me." Buffy cut her off, locking gazes with the older woman when she looked her way.

Post looked away first, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention to Giles. "Does it not, Dr. Giles? You should have been told I was coming."

Buffy didn't need to glance at Giles to know the comment confused him a little, though she didn't doubt it wouldn't be showing on his face. Again, she replied before her friend could. "You're Council, then?"

"Yes," Post confirmed, turning her head slightly back towards her, though Buffy was a little amused when the older woman's gaze focused on her forehead instead of her eyes. "I'm Miss Lehane's new Watcher, now which of you—"

"I'm Faith," the brunette finally spoke up, coming forward a little to stand beside Buffy instead of slightly behind her, where she'd been since Buffy'd moved defensively forward, trusting the older Slayer's judgment. "But I don't need a Watcher. We've already got G—Dr. Giles."

"Dr. Giles is Miss Summers' Watcher, Miss Lehane." Post replied, drawing herself up again to face what was probably an expected argument.

"No offense, lady," Faith shook her head, glaring at the Englishwoman.

Buffy wasn't surprised to note that Faith's emotions were bouncing back and forth between fearful and annoyed. After all, Faith's former Watcher had met a pretty tragic end right in front of her. Buffy, herself, could remember how hard it'd been to get back into Slaying and accept Giles as her new Watcher after Merrick had died for her. She'd be the first to point out that her relationship with Giles had turned out for the best. But something about Post just bugged her too much to let her guard down.

"But I've got this problem with authority figures. They usually end up kind of dead."

"Faith," Giles interceded before Post of Buffy could say anything, "You may recall we'd agreed you would be continuing your normal education under the guidance of the Watchers Council, I'm sure Mrs. Post—"

"I am not here to play at teaching, Dr. Giles," Post snapped, her frown deepening. One of Buffy's eyebrows rose again as she continued. "I am here to provide technical and tactical support to Miss Lehane in her capacity as the Slayer, n—"

"And we told the Council that anyone assigned to Faith would have to help her get her GED and get into college," Buffy cut her off again, her frown not deepening just because her face wasn't used to that severe an expression and therefore protested the motion. "I was there when G—Dr. Giles told them that. If you can't fulfill that role, you don't belong here."

And Buffy would be more than happy to toss the pompous woman back across the Atlantic, probably with Faith's help. Even though Faith wasn't really into the idea of continuing her education, the woman definitely wasn't making a good first impression. Though the fact that she stank of dark magic, as they'd both previously noted, didn't help.

Post blinked, apparently surprised by this ultimatum.

Which only made Buffy want to frown more deeply again. Giles had said the Council was willing to 'oblige the request,' and that was why it was taking so long for the new Watcher to be assigned. Though apparently many Watchers also weren't 'too keen' on the idea of being stationed full-time on an active Hellmouth. But from the way Post was reacting, this was the first time she'd heard about their ultimatum. Which really didn't make any sense.

"I—um—I will, of course, be happy to do what I can to assist in Miss Lehane's proper education," Post finally acquiesced, bowing her head slightly before she did that drawing up thing again. "But my duty, first and foremost, is to assist in her role as the Slayer. Which, fortunately, is not up to any of you."

At that, both of Buffy's eyebrows rose and she suppressed a smirk as she heard Giles groan softly even as she raised a hand to forestall Faith's indignant reply. "Oh really?"

"It is not the Slayer's place to—"

"Think for herself? Think at all?" Buffy shrugged, shaking her head as Post glared at her. "Sorry. I never read the Handbook. Didn't even know about Vampires till after I was Called."

"The Council is well aware of your unique upbringing, Miss Summers. And regrets it's failure to prepare you for your destiny. But even Slayers who were Called without foreknowledge must—"

"Fight the good fight, yeah I know. Been doin' it for almost three years now." Buffy shrugged. "Didn't have much choice." Then she shook her head. "But that doesn't mean I have to give a damn about what you say. And neither does Faith."

"Now, really, Miss Sum—"

Buffy cut her off again, ignoring the woman's furious glare. At least she thought it was furious, it was really weird not being able to sense the woman's emotions and know for sure. "It's a school night, and I missed a bunch a days last week. Can't afford to miss more. So Faith and I have got to get back to work. If you wanna work towards earning your place with us, you can come to the High School library tomorrow afternoon. We'll be meeting then." She glanced at the cross the woman wore on a necklace around her neck, and added. "There's nothin' to worry about in this cemetery, but I don't recommend wandering into any more, or walking through alleys on your way back to your hotel."

"Miss Summ—"

"Good night, Mrs. Post." Buffy finished shortly, before spinning on her heel and moving towards the entrance on the opposite end of the graveyard, gently grabbing Giles' arm as she passed by him to drag him along with Faith bringing up the rear. Between the conflicting emotions of her sister-Slayer: both annoyed and cheerful, and her watcher: flustered and proud, Buffy wasn't entirely sure of where her own emotions were at the moment, but she was pretty sure it was closer to pissed off that anything else.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**TBIT, LAX, Los Angeles, California – Tuesday, October 21, 1997**_

Charlie smiled as the familiar form he was waiting for finally emerged from customs into the Tom Bradley International Terminal's baggage claim area. "Professor Fleinhardt!"

The physicist started at his call, and looked up from the airport map he'd been perusing. His surprised expression quickly melted into a smile as his gaze found the two people that were waiting for him as Charlie and his mother drew closer to him. "Charles, Margaret," he greeted them both with a warm smile. "It is a true pleasure to see you both," then he blinked as he noticed the brightly-colored bags they were carrying. "And I see you found my luggage."

"Well, your bags do kind of stick out," Margaret Eppes chuckled, also smiling as she drew the professor into a hug. "It's nice to see you again, Larry."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed quickly. "Thanks for coming. It, uh, it means a lot."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. I was more than happy to oblige your request," his older professor told him, still smiling. "And as my contract with Princeton is up and now under revision during my sabbatical, I have plenty of time to spend a few days out here."

"Still, it's a long flight from London, isn't it?" Margaret asked, while slowly herding them towards the nearby doors.

"It is indeed," Fleinhardt agreed, nodding again. "Which makes the existence of pharmaceuticals for coping with airsickness a truly wonderful thing, as it meant I was able to sleep almost the whole time."

"Then it's a good thing you didn't have to switch planes in Boston."

"Yes, that could've been problematic. Fortunately the friend that booked my flights had the foresight to avert that possible dilemma. May I ask where—"

"Our car's in the parking garage, professor," Charlie cut in with a grin. "Number four."

"Oh. Yes, that makes sense." His old professor nodded again as he followed them, then he shook his head. "Though I haven't' been your professor for some time now, Charles. Please call me Lawrence, or Larry, if you prefer."

"Larry," Charlie nodded after trying his friend's given name out. "How was it at Oxford?"

"Cold, cloudy and wet," Larry shuddered, before allowing. "Though several of the lectures at the conference were quite stimulating."

Charlie's mom laughed. "I wouldn't think the weather in England would be that different from New England. It's cold there now, too."

"According to the weather reports, you are right," Larry agreed. "But our autumn was more of an Indian summer than a fall to the cold, thus I was not quite prepared for real winter when I arrived in London." He tilted his head to the side slightly as he continued, "Still, I am quite sure you would've enjoyed the conference, Charles. It's a pity you were unable to attend."

Charlie shrugged, "There'll be other conferences, and I'm sure I'll eventually read about everything that was discussed there."

"Oh undoubtedly," Larry agreed again as they reached their car. "A new car, Margaret? Or is this Charles?"

"No, this is Alan's car," Margaret Eppes replied as she opened the back to put Larry's luggage inside. "And, no, Charlie hasn't gotten his license yet."

Charlie grimaced, "I _would_ if you and Dad'd let me." He groused as he closed the back up before moving to the front passenger's door.

His mother turned the key in the ignition, shaking her head while he put on his seatbelt. "After what you did to your brother's old car? We've had this discussion."

"I do believe I witnessed it," Larry agreed, a clear note of amusement ringing true as they came to a stop at the surprisingly line-less exit to pay the parking fee. "On at least three separate occasions, no less."

"Thank you," Margaret murmured to the toll-man before turning her attention forward, waiting for the gate to rise to let them out.

Charlie considered crossing his arms and moping for a time, but chose the more mature route instead. Though it was a little hard with Sineya snickering in amusement in the back of his head, and both of the older people in the car smirking slightly. "Do you want me to get the directions out?" he asked as his mother pulled out of the garage.

"No, Charlie. I've driven in and out of this airport more times than I can count. Your father is the one that needs those directions, remember?" she shook her head, "I may need directions when they start the renovations they've been threatening us with for several years now, but that time hasn't come yet."

"Yes, Mom." Charlie returned, grinning slightly as his mother worked her way through the light traffic to get to _Sepulveda Boulevard_ or _CA-1 S_.

"I am looking forward to your presentation on the morrow, Charles." Larry offered from the back seat. "As are many of our colleagues I spoke to in London."

"At the conference?"

"Some. But I ran into many more at Heathrow, and several were on my flight here as well."

"Really?" Margaret shook her head, somehow following the conversation and the roadway with an ease that Charlie, himself, had found quite elusive when he'd been learning to drive.

"Oh yes." Larry confirmed, and Charlie fidgeted a little at the distinct note of pride and warmth he could sense coming off both of his elders. "The Eppes Convergence was received with quite a bit of enthusiasm when you published it not too long ago. And as it has now stood up to our peers scrutiny on paper—"

"They want to see if I can stand up to their scrutiny in person," Charlie finished, shaking his head in amusement.

"W-Well, yes, I suppose it's something like that." Larry sighed. "It threw you into very high standing in the world of mathematics, after all, Charles."

"Oh I know," Charlie agreed, shrugging lightly to alleviate the slight concern he could now sense both adults were feeling even as his mother merged onto _I-105 E_. "You did tell me to expect that," he reminded his old professor.

The physicist sighed again, "Yes. And the effects of your theory are so far reaching that it really did cause quite a stir. More than I was honestly expecting at first."

"The initial response was probably more from Charlie's youth then anything else," Margaret pointed out lightly. "That's why the paper he published with you at the end of his freshman year was so heavily scrutinized, wasn't it?"

"Yes, though I wouldn't call any of our colleagues as particularly partial to adultocracy of ephebiphobia, the role of professor—which most of our colleagues enter—and the length of time it usually takes to achieve—"

"Which I skipped," Charlie sighed and Larry nodded again.

"Yes, all are factors that do encourage a certain amount of adultism—both its stereotyping and the resulting discrimination—that you will undoubtedly need to face for many years yet." After a moment of weighty silence, speeding down the _I-110 N_ towards downtown Los Angeles, Larry continued. "Though most of those I spoke with seemed rather enamored with your theory, Charles."

"So hopefully he won't be facing an inquisition tomorrow?" Margaret asked.

Larry sighed, "One can hope."

After several more seconds of slightly uncomfortable silence, Charlie asked, "So did you find anything in particular interesting at the conference, Larry?"

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Tuesday, October 21, 1997**_

Buffy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as she watched 'Mrs. Post,'—who'd apparently rallied some of the arrogance she'd scared out of her the night before—as she perused some of the books Giles had on display here in the library.

"Dr. Giles—"

"You may call me Rupert if you'd like."

"Yes, well, I prefer to maintain the degree of formality the Council's protocols promote. You may call me Mrs. Post. Now, where do you keep the rest of your books?"

"I-I'm sorry," Giles finishes cleaning his glasses and slips then on, "The rest?"

"Yes," Post nodded, raising an eyebrow. Though Buffy was amused to note that the Englishwoman was very pointedly avoiding looking over towards Buffy herself. "The actual library?"

Giles just stared at the woman for a long moment, then Buffy and Faith exchanged a glance as a thin smile stretched across Post's face.

"Oh... I see."

Giles shook his head, frowning at the slightly younger woman. "I can assure you, Mrs. Post, this is the finest occult reference collection—"

"This side of the Atlantic, I'm sure. Do you have Hume's Paranormal Encyclopedia? Or The Labyrinth Maps of Malta?"

"It's on order," the librarian replied shortly.

Buffy frowned at the slightly subdued, almost depressed feeling her Watcher was now radiating, and quickly turned that frown on the older blonde woman. "Well, I gotta say, I hope your Council-buddies won't be too disappointed in you when we kick your ass back to England."

"Really, Miss Summ—"

"Oh no," Buffy shook her head as she cut the stuck-up woman off. She might be willing to put up with Cordelia's bitching for Xander's sake and with Giles duty-bound busy-work, but both of them had proven themselves. She wasn't going to put up with a combination of the two of them parading in to take over. "You don't get to 'really' me, _Gwendolyn_," she sneered, deliberately slipping as much disdain into the woman's name as she could. "I don't know who you _think_ you are, but you're not here to take over. You're not here to evaluate me, or Faith, or Giles or—" she waved her hands, "_anyone_ else."

"I am—"

Buffy vaulted over the table to land right in front of Post, who took several steps back as the Slayer advanced on her. "Nobody. _Nothing_."

"Buffy," Giles cut in gently, shaking his head when she turned towards him. "If the Council feels—"

"I don't give a damn about the Council's _feelings_, Giles. As _Gwendolyn_, here, just pointed out: they're on the other side of the Atlantic. Halfway around the world with their noses stuck in books and theories. Probably playing tea-party, while _we_ do the actual work." She turned back towards the older woman, who was quivering with what was probably poorly-suppressed outrage that Buffy still couldn't sense. "And as far as I'm concerned, _Gwendolyn_ is still on the other side of the Atlantic."

"I've never been so—"

This time Faith cut the woman off. "You don't seem to be listening, Mary Poppins. B doesn't care what you think. And neither do I."

"Right," Buffy nodded, leaning against the counter instead of stalking off after Post again. "You're _nothing_ here, Gwendolyn. Giles has earned his place here. Faith has earned her place. Hell, I've _died_ for this town already. You?" the blonde shrugged. "You've survived your first night here." She clapped her hands twice, "Bravo. That puts you a little higher on the totem pole than all of the uglies we hunt every night."

"So we can't kill her?" Faith frowned, and Buffy shook her head again.

"Nope, guess not." Buffy cocked her head to the side again. "Even if she does smell a lot like Ethan." She didn't respond when Giles stiffened a little. Neither one of the Slayers had told their watcher about that. "But _Gwendolyn_'s still human. And supposedly on our side. So, no. We can't kill her."

"The Council would, most likely, frown upon that," Giles offered, even as he studied Post's furious form intently. "But would you care to elaborate on what you meant relating her to Ethan? The Post family and the Rayne's share no blood ties."

"Eeew, Giles," Buffy wrinkled her nose a little. "That wasn't what we meant. _Vampires_ do that, not _Slayers_." She hurried on before he could chastise her. "But she kinda stinks of dark magic."

"...I-I beg your pardon?" Post demanded, but just a moment too slow in Buffy's book.

And apparently in Giles's, too. Because he was frowning at the woman. "The Council does not tolerate unnecessary forays into the dark arts, Mrs. Post. And certainly never to the extent that Ethan Rayne is undoubtedly guilty of."

"The Slayer can't—"

"We've fought against magic before," Buffy cut her off again. "And we don't forget what an enemy feels like."

"And voodoo's easy to notice," Faith spoke up again. "Specially since we got hit with some, the week before last."

"I wonder what the Council would say if they knew of your apparent indiscretions." Giles murmured, shaking his head. He then turned towards his office, and the telephone it contained. "Perhaps I should ring Quentin, to find out?"

"No!" Post immediately protested, her eyes a little wide as she took yet another step back towards the doors.

She jumped when Faith suddenly shot across the room: sitting with her feet propped up on the library table—which Giles had been glaring at her for off and on—one moment, then a foot behind Post in the next. Ordinarily the Slayers wouldn't be able to move like that, but they'd been on high alert since Post stepped into the room several minutes before, so their speed and reflexes were peaked just like they'd be while patrolling. It was a tiring state to maintain for too long—something Charlie and Giles had both warned them against—but seeing Post jump almost a foot made it more than worth it.

"Oh come on," Faith shook her head, one eyebrow raised sardonically. "You can't leave already. You just got here."

Of course, with practice the Slayers would probably be able to maintain that heightened state for longer periods of time. Possibly without the consequences the mathematician and the watcher both seemed to fear. But those were thoughts for another time, so Buffy shoved them to the back of her mind and focused on the startled woman once more as the older blonde turned around.

"And you haven't told us why you're here, either," Buffy pointed out, pushing away from the counter to move towards the weapons cage, pulling out one of the metal, slightly-padded staffs she and Faith would use when they really wanted to go at it. The wooden ones broke too easily when the Slayers let loose. Though they had to replace the metal ones every now and then too, when they'd destroyed the pads too much or dented the actual metal. Then she moved back around the counter, watching Post out of the corner of her eye as she started twirling the staff through some of the forms that were second-nature to her after so much practice, and therefore required next to no concentration. She smirked slightly as she saw Post's eyes following the staff. "We'd like the truth, please."

"I—um," Post glanced backwards towards the library doors, which Faith was clearly blocking with one hand on her hips and an amused smirk on her face. She seemed to sink in on herself, a little, as she turned back to watching Buffy practice.

"The Council doesn't know you're here, I take it?" Giles prompted, his gentle tone surprising Buffy as she could sense all of the negative emotions—anger, outrage, suspicion—simmering behind the real Watcher's neutral expression.

It was part of a reason she'd started twirling the staff. All the negative emotion in the air, her own, Giles', Faith's, combined with Post's fake-apathy and dark-magic-aura, all right on top of the Hellmouth, was making her more than a little edgy.

"N-No," Post shook her head, wetting her lips a little nervously for a second as she looked around. She blinked as her eyes landed on one of the books Giles kept behind the counter. "Y-You have Sir Robert Kane's Twilight Compendium?"

"Yes." Giles blinked, but then moved quickly towards the book her eyes were fixed on, pulling it off the shelf.

"What about it?" Buffy asked, flipping her staff up a little to change the position she was holding it in before going into a different set of moves.

"I b-believe Sir Robert included an excerpt on the Lagos demons?" Post continued before Buffy could cut in again, not that she was inclined to as long as the wanna-be-Watcher was talking. "One of the Lagos is coming here to the Hellmouth. It seeks the Glove of Myhnegon."

"I'm guessin' that's supposed to scare us," Faith commented, shaking her head a little. "But I'm not shakin' yet."

"What's the Glove of My-whatever do?" Buffy asked.

Post seemed a lot more comfortable with this line of questions, though Buffy herself couldn't help but picture the Watcher rehearsing everything she was saying about the glove. The way she said the words just kind of felt that way. "No record of this glove's full power exists, but we do know it is highly dangerous and must not fall into the hands of a demon. Lagos must be stopped."

"You said 'we' before," Buffy suppressed a smirk as the older woman flinched slightly while turning towards her again. "Who's 'we'?"

"The Council—"

This time Giles actually cut her off, earning blinks from both his Slayers. "As I already pointed out, the Council would never tolerate your forays into the dark arts."

Post shook her head, looking down a little. "N-No. They didn't. I was—" she swallowed her eyes still turned towards the ground. "I was dismissed from the Watchers many years ago for the misuse of magic."

"You were kicked out?" Buffy rephrased, not at all surprised when the woman flinched again.

"Y-Yes. But I," Post shook her head. "I still have friends among the Watchers. And my information _is_ accurate."

"If that were the case, the Council—"

Now Post cut Giles off, "Is busy evaluating potential Watchers for Miss Lehane. Among other things."

Faith laughed. "So what, you thought you could get yourself mixed in with us before they could send someone? Get us to trust you and make the Council take you back?" she shook her head. "Well, I might give ya a ten for sneakiness, but you'd have to take a big-fat-zero for execution. Cause we'd have ta like you for your plan to work, and we don't. At all."

"I think," Giles cut in, his tone gentle again, "That it wasn't us Mrs. Post is looking for acceptance from."

Post finally looked up, nodding slightly. "If I can stop Lagos," she shook her head. "I might be able to erase the shame of my youthful transgressions from my family's name. Surely _you_ can understand that, Dr. Giles?"

"Yes, I—uh, caused quite a bit of trouble as a youth myself," Giles agreed.

"No, really?" Buffy cut in with a grin, shaking her head a little even as her body flowed through another graceful, slightly-too-fast move. "And here I was, blaming it on the candy!"

Giles ignored her as he continued. "But I fail to see how you could still be tainted with dark magic so 'many' years after—"

Post cut him off again, seeming a lot more sure of herself as she did so. "I admit my forays into the dark arts went much deeper and continued for quite a bit longer than your own did, Dr. Giles." She looked down for a moment, but then straightened again, her expression firming as she continued before any of them could comment. "But, from the history of your group thus far, I should not think that too much of an imposition."

"So you think we shouldn't mind you 'imposing' yourself on us?" Faith drawled, her expression not quite mocking, but close.

Post didn't even look at Faith as she replied, her eyes settling on Buffy's form again, though again focusing on the back of her head rather than the front. "You might not be inclined to, Miss Lehane. But you, Miss Summers, certainly shouldn't."

Buffy blinked, abruptly stopping her kata by slamming one end of the staff into the floor, ignoring the flinches from both adults and Faith's amused smirk as she turned back to Post, glaring. "_Excuse_ me?" She could sense Giles was unhappy about the broken floor. He never liked it when they destroyed anything in the library. But that was why they kept extra linoleum and tools on hand to fix it. And why all of the furniture had renewal spells on it, making it amusingly easy to fix them after a fight.

"Even at my very worst, I never wreaked the kind of chaos and suffering the vampire Angelus thrived on. And as bad as I've been, I have always been human. Angelus—"

"Was a monster," Buffy snapped, the glare she'd fixed on the Englishwoman intensifying even as she restrained herself from any more violent responses. The only body part she let move was the hand she had wrapped around the steel-staff, clenching it tightly. "No one here will argue that point. But Angel and Angelus were _not_ the same person."

"The demon still—"

"Was there. Taunting Angel. Waiting to be released. Waiting for something like the stupid little loophole the gypsies left in the curse to happen."

"When _you_ made love to the monster. You unleashed him."

"You're not listening!" Buffy shook her head. "Angel and Angelus were two completely different people. Sure, Angel had Angelus stuck in the back of his head, always taunting him. But Angel, himself, was as human as any of us. Yeah, he wasn't Liam O'Connor—the innocent human that the Council failed—anymore. He couldn't be, not after all of the things he'd seen and felt Angelus do with _his_ body."

Post blinked, now looking honestly confused. A feeling Buffy could sense Faith and Giles shared. "The Council never—"

"I took care of a vamp in LA not long ago," Buffy cut in, still squeezing the staff as a physical outlet for her anger. She didn't want to risk moving in any other way yet, since her anger only seemed to be growing now. "A vamp that'd been living the high-life and killing girls there for decades. The Council said they hadn't gone after him cause he was harmless, since he only killed a few girls a year and bought most of the blood he actually needed."

"What does that—" Post tried to interrupt, but Buffy cut her off again.

"It got me wondering, just how many vamps has the Council labeled 'relatively harmless' before? I couldn't really think of a way to research it, but there was one I wanted to check. Darla, the vamp that Sired Angelus. The Council actually had a lot of info on her, even before all the Scourge of Europe stuff. First bit I could find on her was that the Watchers ran into her in London in the mid-1650s. But that they didn't want to try pursuing one of the Master of the Order of Aurelius's favorites at that time, cause they were too busy with politics."

"England's Interregnum* was a, um, rather dangerous time for the Council, Buffy." (1)

"Yeah, I got that." Buffy nodded shortly, her grip on the staff tightening a little bit again. "But that wasn't the only time they just let her go. She was spotted the following decades in Italy, France, Holland, Portugal and Spain. There was even a Slayer active in Spain when she was spotted, but her Watcher, again, said pursuing Darla wasn't necessary."

This time when Giles spoke up, Buffy let him, clenching her fist around the staff a little as she turned towards him. "T-They were probably focusing their attentions on The Master, Buffy. Who I'm sure you remember was a difficult opponent."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded again. "But you never told me to do something stupid like not hunt his minions down on the Hellmouth. And the Council did that. At least twice." She jerked her head towards his office. "I got it right out of the journals you have in there." Then she sighed. "Darla didn't kill Liam O'Connor to make Angelus until 1753, Giles. And Angel said she'd been around almost century and a half before that. Plenty of time for the Council to at least _try_ to kill her. But they didn't. They _let her_ make Angelus."

"They didn't neces—" Giles started, but this time Faith cut him off.

"B's right, G-man. They kinda did." Then her tone changed a little, and Buffy was a little surprised when she actually heard the clear concern the younger Slayer was radiating. Faith didn't usually let what she was feeling actually show. "Um, B? I know we were sayin' we might need new staffs soon, but you really didn't have to kill that one."

Faith's concern—along with the sudden rush of calmness that had started pulsing through the bond from Charlie a few moments ago—was enough to make Buffy physically start, turning a little to blink down at her own hand, which was clenched so tightly around the staff that her fingers had actually sunk down, compressing both the outer padding and the metal bar itself in almost a quarter of an inch.

"I'll take that, Buffy," Giles insisted gently as he came up beside her, giving her a moment to wrench her fingers free of their grip before taking the staff away, shaking his head as he put it back in the armory. He was still shaking his head as he came back out, though his gaze quickly fixed on Post. "As I'm sure you've noted, Mrs. Post, matters of the heart aren't wisest of weapons to try against us. And no matter what you've heard or assumed about Angel, you never met him. And unlike Buffy and myself, you were never tortured by the demon that killed him."

Again Buffy blinked, staring at her Watcher. She blinked several more times as she pushed back the surge of gratitude she felt at hearing the older man say those words.

There'd been times she'd wondered if any of her friends really realized that.

Even though they'd been willing to try the re-souling spell for her sake, after everything that had happened, the only one that had said much about it was Xander. And he, of course, hadn't had anything good to say about Angel. He never had.

So it was nice to hear the man that served as the closest thing she had to a father acknowledging the difference between the two.

She closed her eyes for a second to try and reassure Charlie, before opening them again. As she did so, another part of what Giles had said clicked, and she frowned. "Angelus didn't torture me."

Giles shook his head, and his eyes were gentle as he locked gazes with her. "Perhaps not physically, but the weeks of torment you endured do count as psychological torture, Buffy."

A heavy silence hung over them for several seconds, before Post spoke up, sounding a lot more reserved once again. "I apologize, Miss Summers. I was out of line."

Buffy nodded slowly as she turned back to the woman. "Yeah, you were," then she sighed. "But I guess I went a little over the top, too. Sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. You loved him, I should have expected such a response." Post shook her head even more slowly. "I h-hope you might still let me help fight Lagos?"

Buffy looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Sure. Like you said, I'm pretty big on giving people second chances." "Thank you."

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Cal-Sci, Los Angeles, California – Wednesday 22, 1996**_

Charlie glanced out at the part of the crowded auditorium he could see from behind the curtain, and shook is head, "I'm not nervous." Then—at Larry's too clear incredulousness: as visible on his face as it was palpable to the empath's sixth sense—he shrugged, "Well, maybe a little bit."

The older scientist smiled, "Admittedly, you really have little reason to be. You're more than capable of handling anything even the most critical of our peers might offer."

"Thanks," Charlie smiled in return, evading his mother's third unnecessary attempt at straightening his collar with the ease of long practice. "You guys should probably take your seats. Dr. Williamson will be starting soon."

"It's pretty impressive that you have the California Superintendent of Schools introducing you," Alan Eppes commented with a grin. "Especially considering how much effort you wasted in trying to talk him out of it."

Charlie rolled his eyes, "Yeah, Dad. You mentioned that already."

Instead of leaving right away, his mother gently caught his hands. "You don't have to be nervous," she murmured, her familiar voice warm and reassuring. "You'll do fine."

"Thanks, Mo—" Charlie stopped abruptly as he caught sight of a familiar form entering the auditorium from the opposite side. "What the hell's that son of—"

"_Charlie!_" Now Margaret Eppes's tone was suitably chiding as she cut her youngest son off even as all three glanced towards the audience to see who he was talking about.

Margaret and Larry both groaned softly, while Alan frowned.

"Isn't that one of the guys that graduated from Princeton with you? Penbrook, or something like that?"

Larry replied before Charlie could. "Yes. Dr. Penfield received his diploma alongside Charles. He just got his doctorate at MIT, as well." Then the older professor shook his head, his gaze focusing on Charlie's. "Don't you think it's past time you two buried the hatchet, so to speak?"

"He's written three critiques of my theory in the last four months and two critiques of peer-reviews I've written in that same time. He's formally criticized my theory fifteen times since I published. Without any real grounds to do so!" Charlie shook his head as he started to turn a glare at the offensive audience member, but was stopped by his mother's firm hands, which were still holding his. "Which means he's writing them just to attack me. And that's all he seems to do! He's singled me out!"

"No, your status has singled you out." Larry shook his head again. "Which is surely something you're used to by now. You have been recognized as a remarkably gifted individual for more than a decade and a half, have you not?"

Charlie knew that was true, but Penfield had been a thorn in his side for the most recent third of that time. And probably would be for many years to come. It was really hard not to feel a little defensive.

But then a slightly worried poke from the bond shook him out of those frenzied thoughts, and that worry made him feel more than a little guilty.

Here he was, worrying the woman with the whole world always weighting down on her, and over a petty, academic rival no less. That her concern was shared, in varying degrees by his friend and his parents only made it hit a little harder.

Closing his eyes for a second, Charlie trying to send apologetic, reassuring feelings through the bond.

"Are you alright, Charlie?"

He had to blink back into focus, shaking his wayward thoughts away to respond to his concerned father's inquiry. "Yeah, Dad."

"You shouldn't let Marshall bother you so much," Margaret Eppes chastised her son again, her tone still gentle, but firm.

"I know, Mom," Charlie sighed, shaking his head again. "I'm sorry. I'll try to ignore him, OK?"

"Well I wouldn't go that far," Larry objected, frowning. "Avoiding any questions he might have at the end would be rather unprofessional."

"Just pretend he's naked like everyone else." Alan raised an eyebrow as his wife and both mathematicians looked at him. "What? That's what you're supposed to do with speeches, to overcome stage fright, right?"

"I, um," Charlie shrugged. "I never really needed that trick."

"I never understood how that could possibly make the speaker feel more comfortable," Larry shook his head, frowning in obviously confusion. "Logically, if you're the only person in the room still dressed, with hundreds of naked people watching you, wouldn't you still feel rather uncomfortable?"

"It's a technique that's supposed to make the speaker feel less vulnerable," Margaret shook her head again, "But that's hardly the point."

"I understand that theory," Larry continued, still frowning a little into the distance. "But then there are also many people I'd rather not imagine naked. So—"

Now Charlie's mother actually cut him off. "We're more than a little off topic, I think," she shook her head again, gently squeezing Charlie's hands for a moment before releasing them, to bring her hand's up to his head, which she tugged downward a little, to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Good luck, sweet heart. We'll be cheering for you."

She then moved towards the side of the stage a bit, to the stairs that would take them down to the audience level behind a curtain. Larry followed her after nodding, but both stopped to wait for Alan, who was frowning.

"Well, good luck, son," Alan clapped a gentle hand on the mathematician's shoulder, before his frown deepened a little. "Or should we be saying 'break a leg?'"

"Alan, he's not acting."

"I know, but—"

"Thanks, Dad. Mom. Larry," Charlie nodded to each of them, before indicating the man that was walking onto the stage from the other side, moving to stand behind the podium. "But my cue's gonna come up soon."

He shook his head a little as he watched his parents wander off, quietly bickering, with Larry tagging along behind them.

Then he took a deep breath as the auditorium's lights dimmed a little and the lights on stage brightened, illuminating much of his convergence work, which had been on display since early that morning. He let the breath out as Dr. Williamson started speaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon..."

Whatever else the California superintendent said immediately thereafter, Charlie didn't notice, as his empathetic senses—and more importantly Sineya—detected another familiar, unwelcome presence. His eyes went to the same door Penfield had come through several minutes before. Then he watched Lindsey McDonald walk into the slightly darkened room.

The lawyer's emotionless presence was no less disconcerting to his empathetic senses then it had been the last time he felt it, but somehow more manageable as he knew for sure that the man was only shielding his thoughts and emotions somehow. He still had them, even if Charlie couldn't sense it. That made it a little easier to tolerate his presence, even with Sineya growling at the man from the back of Charlie's head.

He blinked in surprise when the malevolent lawyer sat right next to his old classmate. But whatever else might have happened there, he didn't know, since Sineya suddenly jerked his attention back to the stage, just in time to hear Dr. Williamson finish calling his name.

"...Eppes!"

So when the California superintendent gestured to him, smiling, Charlie forced a small smile onto his face, also, and stepped onto the stage.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Wednesday 22, 1996**_

_Buffy glanced over at Angel, easily mirroring his elegant, familiar moves as they practiced T'ai Chi. Starting with their arms stretched high, hands together, they then gracefully lower their arms by bending their elbows. She glanced over at him again even as she crossed her right wrist over her left, looking away again as both of them then swept their arms out in a wide arc from left to right, before drawing their hands to their wastes and making a quarter turn to their lefts. This left her with her back to Angel as she slowly extended her arms, raising them again to complete the graceful movement with her hands held high, right back where they'd started._

_As she slowly lowers her arms, she isn't surprised when she feels Angel's presence closer than before, right behind her. But she doesn't turn. "I shouldn't be here."_

"_But you are."_

"_I'm supposed to be moving on," Buffy shook her head, bring one hand up to rub her forehead a little. "This is probably just 'cause of what Post said."_

"_She upset you."_

"_Well, duh." Buffy rolled her eyes, then blinked as she noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Sineya was sitting in the boughs of one of the big trees outside the mansion, watching them through an open window._

"_She's been there for a while." Angel commented quietly. "But she's not listening. She's only half here."_

_Buffy chuckled. "Listening to what? Us?" she shook her head. "We're not saying much." Then she sighed. "Is there a point to this?" _

"_You're resting."_

"_I know," Buffy nodded, "'Cause Post wants Faith and I at full strength when we go hunting the Lagos guy later, and Giles agreed, so we're takin' power naps while the others do the research thing."_

_Angel cocked his head to the side, "Lagos?"_

"_Some demon looking for some-all-powerful thingamabob, and I gotta stop him before he unleashes unholy havoc." She shrugged, "Just another weekday in Sunnydale, really."_

"_The, uh, all-powerful thingamabob, what is it?"_

_Buffy sighed again, "Something called the Glove of Myhnegon." She frowned at him, "Why? Ha—" she stopped abruptly as an old book suddenly appeared in Angel's hands._

"_Go to the Mansion." Angel ordered, setting the book down in front of the fireplace. "You'll find what you need there."_

_Buffy frowned, then started to move towards the book, stopping as it disappeared. She sighed. "No, it couldn't be that easy, could it?" She turned to glare at 'Angel,' "This isn't as cryptic as you guys usually are, but couldn't you just—" She stopped abruptly again, as ugly, ancient-looking glove appeared on Angel's arm._

_As the vampire-with-a-soul raised the glove above his head, she could see it was made of leather, chain and plate mail, with small spikes along the plates tiny, hinged claws that look like sharp crab legs made of steel, which were digging into his flesh._

"_Once you put it on, the glove can never be removed," Angel—if that's who he was—told her._

"_Check. No putting the world's ugliest fashion accessory on." Buffy nodded, then blinked again as an urn appeared where the book had been moments before, and a ruby-red flame rose out of it._

"_Living Flame." 'Angel' told her. "It's one of the few things that can destroy Myhnegon's creations."_

"_Check, find Living Flame, too." Buffy shook her head, glancing at Sineya's watching form in the tree before looking back at her source of information._

"_Beware The Fallen."_

_Buffy blinked, "Huh?"_

_Then the mansion was gone, leaving her and Sineya in the same, strange, foggy realm Buffy remembered from not too long before. In the distance she could hear Charlie's voice in the distance, but she couldn't quite make out what he was saying._

"_Wake now," Sineya told her._

_Buffy blinked at her, a little surprised to see the ancient spirit's lips moving to form the words, and then everything went dark._

But it took her barely a moment to remember where she really was, and that it was only dark because she was looking at the insides of her eyelids. She slowly pushed herself up, stifling a yawn as she opened her eyes and looked around.

"Have a good power nap, B?" Faith asked, her clear amusement washing over Buffy's empathetic senses, reassuring in that it told her she really was awake again and surrounded by real friends.

"Yeah, I uh..." Buffy nodded slowly, but then paused as she remembered the events she'd just dreamed.

If that was a vision, it was a hell of a lot clearer than the PTB usually were.

And for some reason seeing Angel as the messenger didn't upset her nearly as much as she thought it should have. Was that because a part of her knew it wasn't really him? Or because a part of her knew it _was_ him?

"B, you OK?"

Buffy blinked, and nodded quickly, offering a small smile to alleviate her sister-Slayer's concern before looking over towards her Watcher. "Um, Giles?"

"Yes, Buffy?" the Watcher replied immediately, though his eyes remained fixed on the contents of the book he was speed-reading through.

"Um, at the mansion. On Crawford Street," she stopped as her Watcher looked up with a frown, wincing as she sensed a poignant wave of remembered pain shake the Englishman's form.

"Angelus's mansion?" Xander spoke up, drawing both Slayer and Watcher out of their thoughts.

"Yeah." Buffy nodded again, continuing with all eyes fixed on her. "There was a library there, wasn't there?"

Giles blinked, but then nodded slowly. "Yes, I believe there was. Angelus appeared to have amassed a very impressive collection there, despite the relative briefness of his stay. I, uh," he took his glasses off and began cleaning them with practiced ease, his eyes locked on his own hands as they worked their way through the motions. "I'm afraid I haven't yet had the opportunity to analyze all of it properly."

Of course he hadn't. Buffy really couldn't blame him for not wanting to go back there. She avoided it, too. For very different reasons, of course. He was held prisoner and tortured there, while she was forced to kill her first love. But still, she could sympathize with his dilemma. Especially with the remembered-pain that had been inflicted on him by his girlfriend's murderer still haunting him.

"You think we should check it out?" Willow asked quietly, shifting slightly as all eyes turned to her before relaxing again as they went back to Buffy.

"Yeah," Buffy rose, nodding slightly. "I'll go now."

Giles started to rise too, "I should—" but he stopped when his Slayer shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine alone. I think I know what I'm looking for." Buffy nodded to all of the books that were piled up on the table for their perusal. "You guys should keep researching. You might find something." Then, to Faith, "And you should stay here—"

"In case they find something while you're gone," Faith nodded. "Got it, B."

"Buffy, you don't—"

"Glove ofMyhnegon, Living Flame and The Fallen," Buffy smirked slightly as both Watchers looked at her in clear surprise while moving towards the doors. "That's what the PTB want me to look for, and they already gave me pictures, too. I'll be back in a bit."

_4 1 5 1 4 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**FBI Headquarters, Los Angeles, California – Wednesday, October 22, 1997**_

Don shook his head and reached for his phone, frowning as he scrolled down to the phone number he wanted to call. A number that he'd put in his phone book some time last week, but hadn't had the time to call because he and his partner had been even more buried in work now then they'd been earlier.

The annoying part was it wasn't really work they'd normally be hit with. True, it wasn't outside of their jurisdiction to be sent after convicts who broke parole, but the last guy they'd dragged in hadn't even left the state and his only violation had been a missed appointment less than twenty-four hours before. Granted, said appointment was a requirement for his parole, and yes, he'd been planning to run, but he hadn't even left yet! He'd still been staying in the apartment that he was registered to when they'd found him. It was more than a little ridiculous. Still, they'd done their job and brought him in.

And since this one had been so easy, they now had a little bit more time to spare then their norm for the last several days. Time during regular working hours, which meant that there was no reason he couldn't make the calls he'd been wanting to make for several days now.

"You sure you want to do that, Don?"

The elder Eppes brother glanced up from his phone, to meet his partner's serious gaze. "What?"

"Check up on your brother." Billy Cooper shrugged, "Make the calls you've been wanting to make for more than a week." He raised his hands in mock-surrender as Don's frown deepened a little, shaking his head. "I'm just saying. I like the chase as much as anyone, but HQ is running us a little ragged lately, while most of the other teams aren't gettin' much work. That kinda tells you something, doesn't it?"

Don sighed, "They don't want me investigating anything in Sunnydale, apparently."

"Well, since it was only _after_ you started poking into that whole fiasco that they started burying us in work, yeah. Looks like it." The senior agent shook his head. "And I'm not sure their orders on all that could've been any more explicit."

No. 'Fucking drop it!' was a pretty clear command.

"But it doesn't make sense! Why—"

"Life doesn't always make sense, does it?" Coop shook his head again. "I mean, the guy that we just brought in a few weeks ago taking flowers to his wife's grave when he's the one who murdered her didn't make much sense to me, but—"

"She was still, technically, his wife. Even though he killed her," Don pointed out, shaking his head also. "But this is more than that. I mean, my mom's contact at the LAPD said the armed-robbery that my brother was hurt in—and it sounds like he was hurt pretty badly, I mean he was in the hospital for more than a week—and the cops didn't even interview the girl that found Charlie—"

"Annie, right?"

"Yeah, her. They didn't even interview her until after Mom called to ask about the case. And they had to take the case out of cold cases to do _that._ Then the apparently put it right back into cold cases!" Don snapped his phone shut, shaking his head in frustration. "I mean, _who_ does that?"

"Pasadena PD, apparently."

"But LAPD _and_ the agent I talked to in Violent Crimes, neither of them were willing to even look into it. I had to badger them into even making a few calls about it. And they still haven't sent me the file on the case, which they were supposedly going to do."

"So someone told them to back off, too. Probably the same some one that's been burying us in work."

Don glared at his friend, the comment something that had crossed his mind, but he really hadn't wanted to accept it. The idea that someone high up in the government could be burying or completely stopping the investigation into his brother's near-death was more than a little horrifying to the over-protective big brother. "Doesn't this bother you at all?"

Coop sighed, and shook his head. "Sure it does. But there's not much we can do about it, is there? We chase after fugitives. Convicts. The only investigating we have to do is whatever it takes to find them. And both of us are still pretty new. We don't have anywhere near the pull it'd take to open an investigation into something like this." He waved his hand when Don opened his phone again. "And if you make another phone call about it, we're almost definitely gonna be buried in even more work. For _months_."

"What are you complaining about?" Don raised an eyebrow, "I thought you _liked_ working."

"Well, yeah. But busy-work sucks. And we've been gettin' too much of it." Coop sighed. "But seriously, Don. There's not much you can do about something like this now. You've already made the calls you can make. Any more calls will just hurt you. You wanna get to the place where you can do something about this kinda shit? You have to keep your head down for a few years, keep workin' hard and doin' your job. Move up the totem pole, collecting favors as you go. And in about a decade, maybe less if you stay half as lucky and determined as you've always been, you'll probably be the guy on the other end of the phone, gettin' harassed by a clueless junior agent that—"

"OK, OK, I get it." Don sighed, closing his phone again. This time he slipped it back into the holder on his belt. After another moment of thought he looked up again, "What about you?"

Coop raised an eyebrow again, "What about me?"

"Where are you gonna be ten years from now?"

Coop laughed, "Right where I am right now, probably." He shook his head. "You know me, you're the career-path guy. I just like the chase. And the money's good enough for me, so..."

"Don't think your ever gonna settle down, then? Meet someone special, maybe?"

The slightly older agent shook his head. "Got no plans for that kinda thing, really." He shrugged as he continued. "Maybe I'll meet someone that's worth settling down for, then I'll consider it. But there's not much sense in trying to settle down for anything less, is there?"

"I don't know," Don shook his head. "Sure, fugitive recovery can be exciting, but—"

"But you're the career-path, eventual-family-guy. I know. I've said that already, haven't I?" Coop grinned, "And yet I haven't seen you with the same girl, or even heard about the same girl for any length of time since we were teamed up."

Don sighed, "When, exactly, have I had the time?"

As if on cue, the older agent's phone rang.

Coop groaned, but obediently slipped the irritating device off of his belt and opened it right on the second ring, bringing it up to his ear, "Agent Cooper." He listened for several seconds, nodding a few times, before finally saying, "Yes, sir. We'll be there." Then he hung up, shaking his head as he returned his phone to its holder.

"New fugie?"

"New busy-work, I think." Cooper replied, sounding suitably forlorn even as he led the way out to their vehicle. "But I can still drop you off at _Cal-Sci_ if you want."

Don shook his head. He felt a little bad, missing his brother's first presentation of the theory that that supposedly won him his place in the field of mathematics, but at the same time, he couldn't just leave his partner hanging. "No, if we've got a new ca—"

"It's not a case." Cooper cut him off as he turned the car on, waiting for Don to get in beside him. "Just busy work. And you were granted leave for this afternoon off weeks ago, remember? That's why HQ sent us out here in the first place. Now get in."

Don sighed, slightly disgruntled. But he gave in, nonetheless.

He wasn't all that interested in listening to Charlie prattle on about math in front of a room full of people, but he didn't want to hurt his brother's feelings either. Firstly because he didn't want to and secondly because it would both disappoint and annoy his parents, which was something both of the Eppes children tried to avoid doing.

No matter how much he wanted to go grab Charlie, drag him over to a corner and keep him there until he said something that made all the troublesome thoughts of Los Angeles and Sunnydale make sense to him, Don knew he couldn't. It could ruin what was probably a big event for Charlie, _and_ according to Cooper might hurt his career. And, again, his parents probably wouldn't react well to it either.

So Don pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he slammed the passengers' door shut and clicked his seatbelt into place. It wasn't easy, with all the instincts of being an older brother for almost two decades combined with those he'd picked up as an agent—something many claimed he was a natural at—all those instincts in agreement that something wasn't right.

But he told himself to wait anyway.

For now.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Cal-Sci, Los Angeles, California – Wednesday 22, 1996**_

Charlie couldn't help expelling a breath of pure relief as the curtains dropped down in front of him, cutting him off from his applauding audience.

"Excellent show, Dr. Eppes!"

The mathematician turned to meet California's smiling Superintendent, a small smile settling on his own lips in response as he accepted the older man's handshake. "Thank you, Dr. Williamson." Charlie licked his lips slightly as he gently withdrew his hand, "And, um, thank you for—"

"I already told you that you didn't need to thank me for the introduction, Dr. Eppes," the Superintendent shook his head, the smile on his slightly round face reminding Charlie a little bit of the Cheshire Cat in Alice of Wonderland.

Though the younger professor immediately wanted to hit himself for thinking that. Dr. Williamson was a very nice man, who'd been very helpful over the last several weeks. And, really, Williamson's friendly grin was nowhere near as blinding _or_ eerie as the character in Lewis Carroll's book was often depicted. The vague resemblance was only just enough for his mind to latch onto it, and he blamed Sineya—who now seemed to be almost giggling, clearly amused by the image—for getting the likeness truly stuck in his head as he took a step back.

"It was quite an honor, really," Williamson continued easily, that same wide grin still fixed on his face. "And if it does it's job, and helps you ease your way into this community, so much the better."

That was part of the reason he'd acquiesced to the older man's request in the first place. Though he hadn't really wanted the Superintendent to introduce him, thinking that would look a lot like favoritism or something of the sort. But his mother had talked him out of backing out on that regard, reasoning—as Dr. Williamson did—that it could only help him. That the presentation would still be Charlie's and it would be up to him to make it memorable. Theoretically, the superintendent's presence merely made sure a lot more people would come to it, which could only be a good thing.

Still, Charlie had a few more things he wanted to thank the older man for.

"Actually, I've been meaning to thank you," Charlie had to fight the urge to look down, meeting the other man's curious gaze as he continued. "For helping my friend, in Sunnydale."

Williamson blinked, an honest bit of surprise coming off him before he shook his head, still smiling. "Well, that was a pleasure, too. And, of course, my job. Though I'm a bit surprised you followed up on it." He shook his head and continued before Charlie could reply. "That little town has a lot of problems. Problems that no one seems to notice. Hell, _I_ hardly even notice them." Now Charlie could sense a definite bit of shame and guilt leaking into the older man's psyche. "Not as often as I should, anyway."

Charlie shook his head, not entirely sure he should push at all, but also sensing that the older man really wanted to talk about this. And knowing the problems Sunnydale did have, including how determined most people were to ignore the supernatural, there probably weren't that many people Dr. Williamson _could_ talk to. "What'd you mean?"

Williamson was silent for several long seconds, but Charlie didn't need him to talk to keep his attention on him. The man's emotions were roiling turbulently through a disturbingly wide range of extremes, easily drowning out the static-background of the much more common emotions flying around the auditorium on the other side of the curtain as the audience disembarked, most being redirect to the lounge for refreshments. Finally he shook his head, "You know, when I took this job, I expected to see things I didn't like. Kids dying in the inner city's due to gang violence, drugs, crime." He sighed, "But Sunnydale's this nice, relatively small town with one school and what I assume is a rather devout religious community, given the number of churches they have. I mean, considering its size, it actually has much more, um, attractions I guess you could say, then one might expect. But the bottom line is that Sunnydale's population is only a little more than one percent of LA's, but the High School paper has weekly obituaries that always report at least one death among the student body and sometimes has as many as a dozen. A week!"

Charlie nodded easily in response. He'd already seen the numbers and done numerous calculations himself. "And you can't do anything about it?"

The state Superintendent shook his head. "I've called the Sunnydale Police Department many times these last few weeks, they say it's simply gang violence. I've called the Mayor, he says the police are doing a fine job considering the circumstances, whatever that means. I called the FBI and got bounced from one official to another, until someone finally told me it was being looked into but that everything pertaining to the investigation is classified and I don't have clearance for that kind of thing. I even sent a formal complaint to the Department of Education and called Richard Riley's* office myself, but as soon as I mentioned Sunnydale he wouldn't even talk to me. Me! I'm the Superintendent in charge of the education of one of the largest populations in the country, and when I mentioned the name of a small town I was responsible for that might have a very serious problem, he all but hung up on me!" (2)

By the end of the tirade it had become just that, a long-winded rant about a problem he could not fix or, obviously, talk to anybody else about.

Charlie could help wincing in sympathy to the man's plight. The so-called 'supernatural syndrome' that plagued the human race, hiding the supernatural form prying eyes with the easy, desperate cloaks of humanity's fear and ignorance was not an easy thing to overcome. And even more difficult to understand even having done so, whether it was completely overcome or just partially. Still, he couldn't really explain much of this to the older man, no matter how much he wanted to.

"I really don't know what to do." The superintendent continued after he'd caught his breath, though he was quieter now as the calm of a fast growing depression seemed to settle over him. "I mean, to prevent teen pregnancies and the spread of STDs we have sex-ed and condoms. We try to combat gang violence by giving the kids another place to go, things to do, lives to prepare for. We cooperate with the police as much as possible to fight drugs. But this is one school in a small town, even with Mr. Walters' offer—"

"Offer?" Charlie asked, seizing onto what was hopefully a more positive topic, as the man's deepening depression was really starting to hurt his own psyche, and scare him a little, too.

"Oh, uh, yes. You remember, I sent one of my assistants down to try to reign Principal Snyder in a bit?" Williamson shook his head again and continued without waiting for a response. "Well, that was George Walters. Apparently he's willing to stay on down there. And after reading his reports I really am inclined to just fire Snyder and let Walters take over there."

"Well that's, um, good. Isn't it?"

"Yes." Williamson agreed, though he was shaking his head. "Though I wasn't all too surprised to learn that he'd recently started dating one of the schoolteachers there, a Miss Glenn, I believe. Ordinarily I might say something about that, relationships in the workplace can get so messy after all. But that seems to be the kind of thing it takes to keep educators in Sunnydale."

"Really?"

"Yes. Since I became Superintendent I've had a horrible time getting good teachers to agree to stay down there for even short contracts. Before I really started looking at the stuff like the obituaries and all, I couldn't for the life of me understand why. It seemed like such a nice little town when I visited it. I was a little disturbed by the notions of gang violence when it was brought up, but when I was down there for a day I didn't seen any signs of it. At least half-a-dozen people warned me against staying out after dark, but that was about it. Really, I can't imagine where these gangs supposedly are." Williamsons sighed, "But I've had teachers who taught in inner-city New York quit after working down there for only a week or so."

Seeing as the conversation wasn't going to take a more pleasant turn until Williamson got all of this out of his system, Charlie gently asked, "Do the, um, gangs, attack the teachers, too?"

"I suppose they must. And from looking at some of the coroners' reports down there, their weapon of choice appears to be barbeque forks." Dr. Williamson sighed again. "I had noticed that, too, of course. When I actually thought about Sunnydale. Before it was just a mild annoyance that I occasionally had to throw money and people at every now and then. I don't understand how I could just ignore the fact that, of the thirteen teachers in my employ that have died in the last three years, only one was of natural causes: a heart attack here in LA. Another was hit by a drunk driver in San Francisco, and one was drunk driving himself in San Antonio when he went off the road. But the other ten were all weird deaths in the little town of Sunnydale."

"That's..." Charlie swallowed, uncomfortable with the picture the man was painting even though he'd already had a clearer, comprehendible image of it in his head. "That's horrible."

"Yes, yes it is." Williamson agreed with a grave nod. Then he sighed again, "But hopefully Walters will be able to fix some of the problems in the school. He supposedly has some ideas that might help, so we'll see how that turned out." Suddenly he seemed to come back to himself, as he shook his head again, almost like he was shaking the negative thoughts away. "But enough of all that. I don't know what came over me, I certainly wasn't planning on bothering you with all of this."

"I don't suppose there are that many people you can, um, talk to about Sunnydale?"

"It's true that most really aren't interested, as I've already said," but Williamson shook his head yet again, clearly shaking the thoughts away this time. "But that's no excuse. We're here to start off your career as an educator here in California, after all. And again, that presentation was a fantastic start."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me," the superintendent chastised him mildly, clapping one big hand down on his shoulder. "It really was! My PhD's in general education, and math has certainly never been a forte of mine. But I actually understood a lot of what you were saying out there. You're gonna be a great teacher."

"That he is," another familiar voice agreed.

Charlie couldn't help but stiffen as he watched as the lawyer who's presence had made him more than a little nervous throughout the entire presentation—too nervous about the lawyer's presence, in fact, to be at all worried about the presentation itself—came up behind the superintendent, stopping at the older man's side.

"Ah, there you are, Mr. McDonald," Dr. Williamson greeted the lawyer with a warm smile, nodding towards him as his glance returned to Charlie, his hand falling from the younger man's shoulder as they turned. "Dr. Eppes, this is Mr. Lindsey McDonald of the law-firm _Wolfram and Hart_. His firm has been exceedingly generous to the Los Angeles school systems these last few weeks, so when he expressed an interest in your work I invited him to attend this presentation with me. I hope you don't mind?"

With Sineya snarling in the back of his head and McDonald somehow-smirking-just-so-slightly-as-to-be-unnoticable-to-anyone-else, it was more than a little hard for Charlie to nod his head. But recognizing the dangerous arena of intrigue he'd dropped down into, he forced himself to, trying to push Sineya further back in his mind while he replied, hoping his tone would come across as calm. "N-Not at all," he shook his head, suppressing a wince at the stutter he'd started with as he pushed on, "though I'm not sure what use a law firm could have more my work."

"I believe you said in your paper that math can be used everywhere and for anything, Professor," McDonald replied, a surprisingly friendly smile on his face as Dr. Williamson watching his exchange. "And the idea intrigued me." He shrugged, "Like Dr. Williamson, I'm no mathematician, but all of the real-world examples you kept slipping in made it surprisingly easy for me to follow your presentation. For the most part, at least." Now his smile became more of a grin, "Some of it, I'm sure, will always be over the heads of those of us that don't live and breathe math, but it's still very interesting."

Charlie was blinking at the lawyer, more than a little surprised by the friendly air the man seemed to almost wear around himself. It wasn't at all what he was expecting when the lawyer had entered the auditorium.

The probable change of tactics from the evil law firm bothered him. Not because he didn't expect it, but because he was almost falling for it.

There were only three reasons he didn't. One, the lawyer's emotionless presence made irritated his sixth sense far too much to let him fall for the act. Two, Sineya was still pissed at the man for the third reason. Three, supposedly this man had hired professional hit-men to kill—or at least hurt—him and/or Annie and Faith. They'd obviously failed. Though they knew a vampire called Mr. Trick had actually organized the so-called '_Slayer Fest_' and weren't entirely sure how much the representatives of _Wolfram & Hart_ had simply tweaked the situation to their advantage. But it still wasn't something Sineya or Charlie were going to forget any time soon.

A ping of puzzled concern from Dr. Williamson forced Charlie's thoughts back to the present, and he quickly shook his head. "Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Not liking the strangeness of the situation more than anything else, the genius was more than a little pleased when several more familiar presences registered on his empathetic 'radar'. While he couldn't really tell everyone apart, his sixth sense still recognized people he was close to. With all the time he spent with his mother and father, it wasn't surprising that he could recognize them approaching. And the slightly flustered, excited but contemplative presence with them could only be Larry. The fourth person that was with them he hadn't spent much time with since he became an empath, but he still recognized his older brother's cool, calm and focused presence right away. Despite the fact that his brother was also worried and annoyed about something, while focusing on the more positive emotions of pride and happiness that their parents were also feeling.

Charlie was about to turn around, towards the other end of the stage where he knew his family would be entering from, but his body froze suddenly, refusing to move. It took him almost a whole second to realize that Sineya didn't want him to turn around, and was in fact, not going to allow it.

He barely kept a puzzled frown off his face as he turned his attention back to the two men he was already talking to, just in time to hear the end of the superintendent's question.

"—ou alright, Dr. Eppes?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Charlie shook his head again, "Sorry. It just hit me that I finished my first public presentation." He almost winced at the lameness of the excuse, certain that the lawyer would see right through it, but the innocent older educator bought it.

But then again, he had no reason not to. Despite the company he was presently keeping, Charlie knew from following and researching Dr. Mark Williamson's career after the educator became responsible for all of the schools in the state of California that Williamson was a good man. Charlie's empathetic senses, and Sineya's slight protectiveness of the innocent while near the less-than-innocent man only confirmed that.

Williamson was chuckling, "Understandable." The older man clapped one big hand on Charlie's should. "I'm sure you'll get used to it over the next few years, but the first few will undoubtedly be nerve-wracking."

Actually, this wasn't the first time Charlie had presented himself to the public with mathematical theories. He'd needed to as a grad student, after all. But though this was the first time he'd publicly presented _The Eppes Convergence_ since he published it a little over a year prior, Charlie was fairly certain none of the future presentation would be anywhere near as nerve-wracking as this one had. Presenting to an audience that contained someone who'd tried to kill or maim you and your friends had to be hard to top, after all.

"I guess," Charlie replied, releasing a small of relief as he heard footsteps and familiar voices behind him, and Sineya finally let him turn—though only a little—to smile at his approaching family. One look at his mother, though, reminded him of why he'd avoided _Wolfram & Hart_ in the first place. His mother had been quite adamant, and while he would have avoided them anyway, he didn't want her to think he'd ignored her. So he quickly turned back to the other two men, nodding towards the side door that led to the staffroom that had been converted for a reception, where he could sense most of the members of the audience were already mingling. "Please excuse me," he offered a small smile to Dr. Williamson, and forced the smile to stay in place as he also nodded to McDonald. "I think there's supposed to be refreshments through th—"

"Of course, of course," Dr. Williamson cut him off. "We were just saying hello. Though I do hope we'll be able to talk later?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, sure." Charlie nodded again, before taking a step backward and then turning around to meet his family halfway across the stage.

"Hey Chuck, what's that about?" Don asked, his eyes following Dr. Williamson and McDonald's departing form.

"J-Just someone that was interested in my work," Charlie shrugged, forcing a smile as his brother's eyes came back to him, even as he wanted to wince at the slight worry and suspicion his brother seemed to be feeling. "Dr. Williamson—he's the—

"Superintendent of California, I know," Don cut him off, seeming to rein his protective instincts in—since the wariness Charlie was sensing from him suddenly disappeared—as he grinned. "Yeah, Mom already told me. Pretty cool, getting him for your introduction."

"Very cool," Larry agreed with a nod. "And may I compliment you on an excellent presentation, my friend?"

"Uh, you may," Charlie nodded quickly, more relieved then he wanted any of them to see that none of them seemed to be paying any more mind to Lindsey McDonald. "And thank you."

He wasn't sure how, but Don always had seemed to know when Charlie felt threatened by something, or someone. When they'd been in high school, and Don hadn't wanted much to do with him, he'd still always been there when Charlie had really needed his help. Protecting him from bullies and even a few scornful teachers.

But Charlie didn't want Don to protect him now. Because he didn't want his big brother going anywhere near _Wolfram & Hart_ and its dangerous associates.

Sensing Don was still a bit too interested in Lindsey McDonald, Charlie shuffled slightly to the side, hoping it wasn't too obvious that he was placing himself between his brother and the lawyer till the man had left the room, even as he waved towards the door the pair was already headed towards. "There's supposed to be refreshments for us in the lounge—"

"And you must mingle," Larry nodded, smiling at the younger scientist. "For that was rather the point of this entire event, was it not?"

Don raised an eyebrow at that. "I thought it was about selling his theory. The convergence-thing?"

As his brother honestly seemed a bit confused—which was good as it meant he hopefully wasn't thinking about McDonald anymore—Charlie tried to push his own disappointment back. "I published my paper months ago, Don. Most of the people here read it already."

"But since Charlie's going to be teaching here," their mother took over with a warm smile, "This helps him start out here as a recognized professor."

His family—particularly his father and brother—had really never fully understood Charlie's world. Most of the math that he worked with was way above the heads of most of the world's population. And though all of his family members were very smart in their own rights, they didn't see the world the way he did. So the numbers were beyond them.

"What? Are you worried about the age-thing?" Don asked.

Charlie nodded ruefully, replying even as his mind continued wandering a little. "There'll probably still be some people that'll think I'm a student most of the time. Or a fake, I guess." He finished with a grimace. He'd seen both reactions to varying degrees at Princeton. Earning the respect of a bunch of undergrads who were all older than him hadn't always been easy.

Charlie's genius had set him apart that way for most of his life. And despite his loved-ones best efforts, it'd led to Charlie feeling more than a little ostracized. Cut off and unable to connect.

Though college had helped, as he'd been thrust into a more mature crowd where more had been willing to give him a shot. Though he'd definitely still run into a _lot_ of jealousy.

Still, this summer had helped even more.

When an odd twist of fate had led to his introduction to another part of the world his loved one were totally unaware of. When he'd met Annie. When Sineya's acceptance of him, of both of them, had created the bond they now shared. And given both of them the ability to sense the real emotions of almost everyone.

Except for those who's thoughts and/or emotions were magically guarded. Larry, Don and his parents were not among those spiteful people.

'Spiteful' because even the witches that admitted to shielding against telepaths didn't believe in shielding against an empath. It was a level of dishonesty most of the magical community frowned upon. Though, at the same time, he and Annie had both noticed that those very same witches had much greater control over their emotions then most people did.

None of the Eppes wore their emotions on their sleeves, or really openly displayed their feelings the way Larry kind of did. But to Charlie's new empathetic abilities, all three were open books as long as he was able to focus on them enough, individually, to be sure he was reading only their emotions with the hubbub of everyone else's emotions echoing in the background like static.

Now he _knew_ Don was honestly _confused_, but still _proud_ and _happy_ to be there. Which went a long way towards soothing his own slightly hurt feelings.

And, he apparently understood the dilemma Charlie would be facing here, too. Though he was grinning as he pointed out, "Well, you'll show 'em. And, on the bright side, at least you'll be older than most of your freshmen and some of your sophomores."

Charlie blinked, then laughed as he grabbed his big brother's arm and dragged him towards the room where all of Charlie's new peers were gathered to welcome the young mathematician into their midst.*(3)

Surrounded by his family, he was smiling as they entered the crowded, busy room.

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Angel's Mansion, Sunnydale – Wednesday 22, 1996**_

Buffy glanced up to look at the big, old book Faith was holding up. She sighed and shook her head as she turned her attention back to the crate she was sorting through. "No."

The two Slayers had probably gone through a couple hundred crates like this. And after nearly four hours, they were only about halfway through the master vampire's hoard.

And that was only the hundreds of boxes down in the vault he'd installed in the basement. Buffy was pretty sure that Faith had a point in saying that the vampire had probably stashed a lot more stuff all over the mansion, and not just in the obvious place with a bunch of other semi-valuable possessions. It'd only taken the two Slayers about twenty minutes to get through all of the heavy locks on the massive door. The door itself had been enchanted to be unbreakable, but the locks, for some reason, weren't.

Buffy still wasn't sure what she should say to Faith about just how fast the brunette could pick the locks that they couldn't just break through with super brute force. She knew Faith had essentially raised herself before she'd been taken from her mother's alleged 'care' by Dr. Dormer and the Watchers' Council, and as it didn't sound like Faith's mother had worked much, if at all, and Faith legally couldn't, it wasn't entirely possible she'd developed the skill, along with many others, as she struggled to support herself and her worthless mother.

Nonetheless, once inside the only protection for the valuables seemed to be the little surprises in the boxes themselves. Which really wasn't that much protection for a supernatural treasure trove. While a Slayer was generally stronger than most vampires, even master-vampires, four or five minion-vamps or more than three master-vamps could still make it through the door. And some demons were physically stronger than Slayers.

Still, after several hours going through a couple hundred crates, they'd yet to find the one important book the PTB wanted her—or at least Giles—to look at. Or the ruby red urn-thing that could produce the so-called 'Living Flame' they'd need to destroy the glove.

So far they'd found about two dozen different urns that weren't the one they needed. Plus hundreds of tomes and even more scrolls. Apparently Angelus was a bit of a bibliophile, and had been very into collecting/shopping during his terror-spree here in Sunnydale. Maybe even before. Spike and Drusilla were, after all, part of Angelus' 'family', so they could've kept a watch over some of this stuff, or something like that. Maybe collected some of it themselves. Honestly she had trouble imagining Spike doing such a thing, since he seemed to hate Angelus even more than he hated Angel, but he'd do anything for Drusilla, who might've wanted to carry on her 'Daddy's' collection.

Buffy honestly didn't think Angelus could have accumulated this massive collection all on his own in the few months he was loose in Sunnydale. Granted, Angelus hadn't been stalking and taunting her and the Scoobies the whole time he was at liberty. And maybe he had traveled a bit. Gone to supernatural estate sales and the black markets Giles had mentioned every now and then. Hell, maybe he'd bought a lot of it on e-bay*. (4)

But however he'd managed to acquire everything they were going through, it wasn't like _Buffy_ could really say anything about shopping. One of her favorite pastimes was buying shoes of all colors, designs, shapes and shades. And even before they'd found the armory here, she'd already known that Angel, at least, had had impeccable taste when it came to weaponry. Most of her favorite weapons had been gifts from him. Apparently he bought a lot of books and magical artifacts.

All that aside, though, they really needed this break through on the glove. According to both Giles and Post the books they had at their disposal here in Sunnydale just didn't seem to have the necessary information. Which was more than a little ridiculous, since the glove was supposedly buried here in Sunnydale. She really should start making a list of all the complaints she had for Giles' bosses. But right now they were kind of stuck relying on whatever help the PTB were willing to give them.

Of course, looking at the books she and Faith had already dug up, it almost looked like the Powers That Be had actually sent them here to improve upon the 'best collection of mystical texts on this side of the Atlantic,' since they'd already found more than a hundred different books. And better in their hands then in their enemies', right?

Buffy sighed again as she deftly angled around the weird little statue with tons of little arms, all with claws at the end. When its little red eyes lit up and its arms started to move, claws reaching for her, she threw it towards the fireplace, where Faith had stirred up a roaring fire more than an hour before.

Its irritating, nails-on-chalkboard shrieks turned into pitiful whimpers as its surprisingly fragile body shattered on impact with the back of the fireplace, before its remains joined the remnants of similar little-stone-monsters in the fire's hot coals. A few seconds later the whimpers died away, and she knew that if she'd looked its eyes would be dark, too. As she and Faith had already killed dozens of the little monsters in a similar fashion.

To anyone less physically adept and gifted then a Slayer, the little monsters might be able to do a lot of damage. But most vampires and demons would still probably be able to overcome them, so it just lent credence to the idea that anything really important would almost certainly be better hidden.

"What about this one?" Faith asked, and Buffy looked up to glance at the big book Faith was holding up this time.

The older Slayer shook her head again as she moved two more books out of current crate and onto the ever-growing pile of books for Giles to go through. "No. The cover was metallic, but it looked dull like steel."

The shiny silver cover of the book Faith was holding up was actually rather pretty. But not the one they wanted.

Faith sighed as she tossed that book towards the pile, too.

A hundred-and-some-odd books ago, both had found this action amusing. Neither had any trouble imagining just how horrified Giles would be if he saw them throwing his old books around. But he wasn't here, and the unspoken joke had gotten old.

"Any luck remembering the symbol?" the brunette asked as she carried another empty crate over to the door, to set on the stack with all the others, before moving over to the side of the room to grab yet another crate to go through.

Looking at the stack of still-full crates, Buffy though they might be more than halfway done. Still, she couldn't help but sigh again as she replied. "No, I don't think so," she shook her head. "I still think it kinda looked like a claw—"

"But a lotta these old symbols do," Faith nodded as she set the box down and knelt beside it to tear the top off and immediately caught another shrieking statue to chuck at the fireplace.

As helpful as their super-strength was for the heavy lifting, and their senses, speed and reflexes for the nasty surprises Angelus had littered his treasure trove with, to Slayers this was still _wicked_ boring.

"Hey, B, check out this one."

Buffy almost didn't look up, but sighed as she forced herself to do so. And her eyebrows immediately clicked together in irritation as her eyes fell on the book in question. "Faith, the cover's _green_."

"I know, but—"

"We're looking for a dull metal cover, with something red on it. Or a little red urn like one of those except really, really red. Nothing green."

"I know, but wasn't Poppins annoying G-man for not havin' this one already?"

Buffy blinked, then looked a little more closely at the book, and was only a little surprised to find that the title was The Labyrinth Maps of Malta. "Huh. Cool," she nodded, then winced as another thought occurred to her. "Though maybe we shouldn't give it to him right away."

"Why?" Faith frowned as she set the book down a little off to the side from the main stack of tomes. "He's gonna go through all of these anyway. And he'll know where they came from," her nose wrinkled up a little in a physical show of the slight confusion Buffy could sense from the brunette. "Not sure what good maps of Malta will be for us, here. Isn't Malta near Italy?"

"Yeah, I think. Mom got some stuff shipped from there a few weeks ago, actually."

"Oh yeah, the glass stuff, right?" Faith grinned as she followed Buffy's example and went back to sorting through her box, though Buffy heard the younger girl shake her head—heard the whispery sound of her hair swaying back and forth with the motion—a moment later. "But I still don't get what good maps of a place in Europe are going to do for us in Sunnyhell."

"Maybe they're not actually maps _of_ Malta?" Buffy guessed half-heartedly, shrugging slightly. "Maybe they're just a collection of maps that were, um, collected _in_ Malta, I guess?"

Faith didn't say anything right away, though Buffy could sense the speculative reply had succeeded in amusing her. When she got to the bottom of what was apparently a very lightly packed box—compared to the others that sometimes took at least ten minutes to go through without breaking or missing anything—she stood with a sigh, moving the box over to another stack that contained crates that still had some stuff in them for the Watchers to look at later. "I'm gonna head downstairs again."

"We already brought most of the boxes up," Buffy pointed out, before raising an eyebrow at her sister-Slayer as she looked up. "But you just want to get out of this room, don't you?" She hurried on when Faith shrugged, keeping her tone gentle, "You don't have to help me, you know. The sun'll be setting soon. One of us should probably be resting up for patrol."

Faith rolled her eyes, "I may not be that good at math, B, but even I know it'll take you twice as long to go through all this stuff by yourself. And it's not like it's actually tiring. _Boring_, definitely. I'm just gonna stretch my legs a bit, bring a few more boxes up, then I'll start helping you sort through G-man's dream-come-true."

Buffy laughed and waved a hand towards the door that led down into the basement, where they'd found most of the crates. "Stretch away," she was still smiling as she turned her attention back to her crate while Faith left the room. She even kept grinning, a little, as yet another little monster came to life and tried to tear her eyes out, easily catching the little menace and tossing it towards the fireplace with all the other troublemakers.

After a few moments of quiet, broken only by her shuffling through the crate, combined with the distant sounds of Faith looking around downstairs and various, blocked sounds from outside, Buffy sighed. Taking into consideration all of the little, breakable-looking things that had been in this particular crate, she picked it up and carried it over to the go-through-again-later-pile, before turning back to the pile of crates they still had to go through up here.

But she paused halfway there, frowning in slight confusion as a twinge of intense confusion hit her from the back of her mind. From where the bond was, but it didn't feel like Charlie.

It took her a moment of though to realize that it must have come from Sineya, then. The ancient spirit had been more and more active lately, but she still didn't seem to really be there, listening in or whatever, all the time. If anything, it sounded like she paid a lot more attention to Charlie then she did to Buffy.

Maybe because Charlie really needed more protection than Buffy did. Or maybe the ancient Slayer just liked Charlie's frequently more mature mindset. He was only a little over a year older than Buffy, but he'd already finished college and gotten his first doctorate. He was going into a career that would enable him to help people all the time, while Buffy was still stuck in high school during the day and slaying at night. Maybe the Hellmouth bothered her more than she let on. Still, the ancient spirit was always 'there', in the back of Buffy's mind, whenever the modern slayer needed her.

So what had caught her interest here? If going through all this stuff was boring to Buffy, she'd think that Sineya—who couldn't read and had never had a Watcher—would be bored to death.

Looking around, Buffy didn't see anything out of place from what she already knew was here. And didn't see anything interesting, either.

But a slight movement in her peripheral vision made Buffy turn rapidly, looking upwards a bit to look out a window. The same window, in fact, that Sineya had been watching her and Angel through in her vision/dream-thing.

The blonde Slayer's eyes widened as they settled on that same tree branch Sineya had been perched on before, watching them.

Because there was a young woman watching her now. A woman with dark skin, hair and eyes, who looked oddly familiar. Her head was cocked to the side as dark eyes studied Buffy in turn, and another wave of curiosity hit the blonde through her bond, making her start.

Buffy blinked as she started to move towards the woman. But she stopped again when she opened her eyes.

Because the woman was gone.

A moment later, Faith meandered back into the room with a couple of crates in her arms. Though the Slayers could easily lift more than that, it was a little difficult to safely balance more than two or three at time. And they didn't want to risk breaking anything valuable to setting off any really dangerous booby-traps.

The brunette stopped almost immediately, to frown at the older Slayer, "You OK, B?" she asked as she took the last few steps to the right stacks, and set her new stack down beside it. "You kinda look like you've seen a ghost?"

"I..." Buffy stared at the window for a few seconds more, shaking her head slowly. Finally she turned back to the pile, deliberately not looking towards the window as she picked out another box. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little...bored, I guess."

Telling the other Slayer she might be seeing things shortly before a patrol didn't seem like a great idea.

But was she? She really thought a woman had been there. Her eyesight hadn't been blurred by anything before she blinked. Still, even a Slayer couldn't move fast enough to have been gone from the tree without even displacing the branch in her flight in the blink of an eye.

And she hadn't sensed her, either.

The woman hadn't registered at all on her Slay-dar. So that meant either she definitely wasn't demonic in any way, or that some kind of demon that could take a human-guise could also fool a Slayers senses. Which was a scary thought all its own.

And the only emotions Buffy'd been feeling at the time were Faith's wandering ones, her own bored ones, and Sineya's curiosity. Nothing else.

"Yeah, well. We don't have all that many more boxes to go through. Though I'm gonna be a bit pissed if that book doesn't turn up after all this," Faith jerked her head towards all of the crated they'd already gone through even as she jerked the lid off a new crate and smoothly grabbed another little demon out of midair to throw it into the fireplace.

Buffy nodded in easy agreement. "Well, I'll be sure to pass the message along first chance I get."

_4 1 5 1 4 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Cal-Sci, Los Angeles, California – Wednesday 22, 1996**_

"So is that guy with the school or something?" Don threw the possibility out there, even though he highly doubted it.

Everything about the man, from his stylish suit and slicked back hair to his equally slick attitude didn't scream geek or nerd. No, Don thought something more along the lines of a cut-throat businessman seemed to fit the man much better. With an emphasis on the 'cut-throat' part.

The genius frowned at his older brother, "What guy?" he asked, but his reply came just a little too slowly for Don to believe him honestly ignorant.

And while Don Eppes was only just starting out as a law enforcement officer, with a little more than a year under his belt since he'd graduated from Quantico, he didn't need more experience as an agent to read Charlie. No, he'd had all of the genius's life to learn how to read him. Though he might never understand most of the mathematics and scientific theories Charlie wrapped his mind around with ease, Don did understand his brother. At least enough to know when Charlie was lying. Now if only he knew _why_. "The one you didn't want us to talk to. The superintendent introduced you to him?"

Charlie blinked and shook his head, looking away as he replied, "Oh. No, he's not."

Don's brow had furrowed slightly when the mathematician pointedly avoided eye-contact, but as he took in his brother's slightly hunched, defensive posture, he didn't want to attack him for it. He didn't want to push him too hard, but at the same time he had to push at least a little. "So? Who is he?"

Charlie frowned slightly, and offered an uncomfortable looking shrug as he took a large sip of the cup of water he was nursing. Then, after swallowing the gulp of water, he replied, "He's just a lawyer."

Don couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "A lawyer?" Honestly, he didn't know what he'd been expecting. But that hadn't been it. And 'just a lawyer' really didn't explain the dangerous vibe he was getting from the man while wandering around his brother's welcoming party to _Cal-Sci_'s ivory-tower community.

"Yeah. I—uh—I guess some of his clients want to hire me for something. Maybe."

"Huh." Don nodded slightly, mulling that over as he took a sip of his water.

It kind of made sense. Big companies hired high-level mathematicians for all kinds of stuff. And Don knew that Charlie had been approached by a bunch of banks and computer companies before he'd even graduated from college. Apparently the teen being a recognized genius, a child prodigy, had out-weighted the fact that he hadn't yet completed his education.

But, Don realized as he swallowed a second sip of water, that wasn't quite the vibe he'd gotten from the man. Or from his brother. "Who's he representing?"

Charlie was looking away again. "I don't know," he took another gulp of his water. "You know, I really sh—"

"Why didn't you let Mom handle him?"

Their mother had always handled Charlie's legal affairs. All his contracts with these companies and whatnot.

"What?"

"I was talking to Mom before I interrupted you two. She went to find Dad. But she didn't know who he was. I asked."

Charlie frowned at him, "Why?"

"Just curious," Don took another sip of water. "Though I gotta say, straight-forward answers would satisfy my curiosity a lot more than this half-answer, evasion crap."

Oops. So much for the not pushing hard.

Still, with all the worrying Don had been doing recently, he couldn't help but want more answers. And seeing as he'd never known Charlie to be any good at keeping secrets, the fact that he was obviously hiding something only made his big brother more curious. And protective.

"She, uh—Mom—She's been really busy lately. I didn't want to wor—bother her."

"Uh-huh. What didn't you want to worry her with?"

"Really, Don. I'm gonna be so busy here at _CalSci_, I'm not all that interested in new contracts." Charlie frowned at him, almost glaring as he continued, "I can say 'no,' and turn down jobs on my own, you know."

Don stared at his brother for another long moment, before reluctantly forcing himself to back down. "If you say so," he finished off his water and tossed the paper cup into a nearby trashcan. "How's 'Annie' doing?"

"She says she's feeling a lot better," Charlie's eyes finally stopped darting around like he was looking for an escape, and a small smile blossomed as he finally met his brother's eyes again, no longer glaring. "Though I think she's still a bit unhappy about not making it to her homecoming dance."

"Yeah," Don winced sympathetically, "That does kind of suck." Then he shook his head. "How did you end up with two dates to this thing anyway? Was it a just-as-friends-thing?"

"I thought so. Faith just kept saying I had to be Annie's date _and_ her date. And Annie didn't think Faith would go without a date, so," his little brother shrugged, "The two of them are kind of hard to say no to, too."

"No kidding," Don shook his head, grinning slightly. "Still, that would have been a pretty great entrance if you'd made it." Then he frowned as he remembered just how late Charlie and the two girls had been to the dance. It'd been in full swing at least an hour and a half before they would have show up if they hadn't been shot at. That was more than a little fashionably late. "Why were you guys so late, anyway?"

Charlie blinked at him, then looked away again as he replied. "The, um, chauffer took us on a, um, really long scenic route. He took us out by a bunch of parks and, uh, stuff. Annie and Faith were pissed. He, uh, didn't seem to understand that we really just wanted to get to the dance."

"Yeah, I'd be mad too. I guess. Maybe." Don frowned, shaking his head. He could think of several reasons a long ride in a limo with two beautiful girls could be considered a good thing, but the ideas obviously hadn't entered his little brother's head. Or his 'dates' heads.

Still, he didn't think Charlie was telling him everything.

Which didn't make sense.

It wasn't like Summers knew there was a bunch of hit-men looking for her. Because if they'd stayed away so long for that reason, they probably wouldn't have come at all.

And Charlie would've told him if it was something like that...

Wouldn't he?

"I'm sorry, Donnie," Charlie started, only to stop abruptly as the distinctive sound of a cell phone ringing broke the air.

Don's hand immediately went to his, and he sent an apologetic wince to his brother as he flipped the phone open. "Eppes."

"_Hey, you need to come back in,_" Cooper's distinctive voice came over the line.

"I just left," Don protested, definitely not wanting to leave now, when it looked like he might be getting somewhere close to the bottom of all the questions surrounding his little brother.

"_I know, but the boss wants us to head up north to run another guy down. And he was last seen crossing into Nevada an hour ago, so we've gotta get going._"

Don bit back the vulgar words he wanted to say to that, seeing as his mother was on her way over, and just shook his head. "Fine, I'll call a tax—"

"_I'm halfway to Cal-Sci already, I'll meet you out front in ten minutes, alright?_"

The younger agent sighed, "Yeah, fine." Before hanging up on his partner and returning his attention to his little brother, who's expression had fallen slightly. "Sorry, Chuck. I've gotta go."

"Go where?" Both Eppes's boys turned in response to their father's question, to see that both of their parents were frowning at the elder. "I thought you were coming home for dinner tonight? I was grilling rib-eye."

"Sorry Pop," Don grimaced, shaking his head. "I really wish I could, but," he shrugged halfheartedly. "Duty calls."

Charlie nodded slowly, but spoke before either of their parents could say anything. "I understand, Don," he bit his lip. "But stop by again soon, OK?"

Don was nodding in response even as his arms came up automatically when their mother pulled him into a gentle hug.

"Stay safe," Margaret Eppes murmured softly into her eldest's ear. "And come home soon. You don't have to wait for a special occasion as an excuse, you know."

"I know, Mom," Don sighed as he gave her slender shoulders a gentle squeeze before he pulled away. More than anything else, his family was a major part of why he didn't want to stay in fugitive recovery for too long. Another year or two, maybe. But he knew their worry for him increased with the length of time between his visits and that even the phone calls he tried to make on a regular basis—not that he always could, as he sometimes didn't have enough free time to sleep and eat without doing it in shifts with his partner, never mind calling home—only helped so much. Add to that how difficult it was to maintain a steady relationship and the fact that you could only go so far up in the bureau, could only do so much, as a fugitive recovery agent, and he knew he was meant to be elsewhere. But for now, he had to run after the scum bucket that was trekking through Nevada. "I'll see you soon." Then he nodded to his father and brother, before walking away, his feet flying across the floor as he hurried towards the main entrance.

Even if he didn't have to come back relatively soon to keep his mother from worrying too much, Don knew he'd be back as soon as he could anyway. If only to figure out what the hell was going on with Charlie!

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**The Streets, Sunnydale, California – Thursday, October 23, 1997**_

Buffy frowned and raised an eyebrow at the younger Slayer. "What'd you mean?"

When Faith had said she'd been wanting to ask something for a while now, Buffy really had expected something about herself, or maybe more about Charlie. Or possibly something about Angel/Angelus. If only because Faith had asked for permission to ask, something that was still rather out of character for her even though the brunette often avoided subjects Buffy had much emotion invested in. Whatever the case, she really hadn't been expecting a question about Xander and Willow.

"I don't know," Faith shrugged, glancing around as she took a deep breath. They were actually out a bit early this evening, so neither expected to come across vampire or demons any time soon. Still, they were on a patrol so not looking wasn't really an option. "They've just been kinda edgy lately. If I didn't know X-man was dating Cordy and that Red's dating Wolf-man, I'd almost think they'd just broken up and were in the 'lets still be friends phase.'"

Buffy considered that a moment. She supposed Willow and Xander had been a bit nervous around each other lately. She'd honestly just assumed it was nervousness about the demon and glove that Post had them looking for, but then again it was kind of hard for her to notice anything outside of Slaying when she was around Post. The woman's weird apathetic-presence bugged her, and the dark magic that still clung to her skin like a really nasty perfume didn't help at all.

"They've never dated?"

"Wh—Willow and Xander?" Buffy shook her head. "No. Best friends from kindergarten and all that. Willow had a crush on Xander for awhile, but he was always hitting on me and glaring at Angel. Then she met Oz. And Xander and Cordelia ended up together. Somehow."

"Somehow?" the younger Slayer asked again, a little bit of the amusement Buffy could sense empathetically also leaking into the inquiry.

"I think something happened between them when Spike sent a bunch of demonic assassins after me. And Xander mentioned something about a closet," Buffy shook her head. "I never asked for more information."

"Ah." Faith nodded, smiling slightly. Though the small smile disappeared as she continued, "So Red used to crush on X-man?"

"Oh yeah," Buffy nodded, sighing softly. "_Tons_. And of course Xander never noticed. If he wasn't hitting on me or glaring at Angel, he was running off after some other girl." She shook her head again. "Willow kept coming to me for advice and stuff, but there really wasn't much I could help her with. Whenever I tried to give her suggestions for make-over kind of stuff, she'd shy away from them." A smile worked its way onto her face as she recalled one such occasion. "Like the Halloween I told you about, remember? When Giles old-not-so-much-a-buddy made us all turn into our Halloween costumes?"

"Yeah. You turned into a damsel-in-distress, X-man became some kind of soldier and... Red was a ghost, right?"

Buffy laughed, "No, actually. I gave her the lecture on how Halloween was supposed to be 'come as you _aren't_ night.' I spent, like, at least an hour helping Willow into this really hot rocker-babe outfit. Make-up and everything, which she really wasn't used to. Then when Xander showed up as GI-guy, Willow hid inside the ghost costume from Ethan's store."

Faith laughed, "So when black-mojo-guy cast his spell, Willow turned into the ghost of a rocker-babe?"

"Yup. Giles musta been really confused when she showed up." Buffy grinned back, then she shook her head, "But even seeing her like that didn't make Xander notice her. I mean, he didn't know her as the army guy, but he said he was stuck in his head watching how army-guy did everything just like I was. So he did _see_ her."

"And still didn't notice her," Faith shook her head too. "So X-man's not the most observant of the bunch," she shrugged. "Still, maybe it was a 'don't want to date my best friend cause she's my best friend' sort of thing? I mean, they grew up together like sib's, right?" Then she shook her head again. "But I guess he's noticed. While they're both dating other people. Thus the edginess."

Buffy sighed, "I'll... Do you think I should talk to them about it?"

"You know I'm not really much for the touchy-feely kind of stuff, B." The younger Slayer shook her head yet again. "But this sorta thing could go real sour, real fast. Screw everything up."

"Yeah. I guess I'll talk to them," Buffy nodded, giving the area another semi-lazy scan as she finished. "After we get rid of the glove."

With a ton of more books to go through, several of which apparently even the Council didn't have overseas—so how Angelus got a hold of them was anybodies guess—Giles and Post were confident that they'd be able to locate the glove soon. And both agreed with the use of 'Living Flame' to destroy it.

Still, the Slayers were making their way through cemeteries, paying a little bit more attention then they would on a normal patrol. They could, after all, still get lucky and run into Lagos looking for the glove. Get rid of the demon and finding the glove, while still a good idea, wouldn't be quite as important.

"Right." Faith smirked as they entered Sunnydale's fifth cemetery. "Still think we should dragged Mary Poppins out with us."

That made Buffy roll her eyes, "You just want to mock her for thinking there's only one graveyard in Sunnydale."

"Don't you?"

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Caritas, Los Angeles, California – Thursday, October 23, 1997**_

Charlie shrugged slightly, forcing a small smile as he turned to meet his friend's eyes before replying, "I thought you had everything covered?"

Apparently Gunn felt that was worthy of a mild glare. "There's only so much we can do here, Charlie." He shook his head. "And somehow I don't think your Slayer knows about this."

Charlie shook his head, "She's not _my_ Slayer."

Now Gunn just raised an eyebrow at him.

After a stretched second of silence the mathematician sighed. "No. Annie doesn't know." Then he felt the need to add with a frown. "I don't talk to her about _everything_, you know. I mean, I'm the legal adult with a doctorate here. I start teaching as a college professor in just under three mon—"

"Yeah," Gunn was shaking his head and smirking slightly as he cut in. "But she's the Slayer. And she's only a little over a year younger than you."

"And she's _the Slayer_," Keenan, another one of the massive members of The Watch added from a few feet to Charlie's left.

"He said that, Keen," Devon insisted from just behind Charlie's right side.

"What are you guys doing here?" Charlie asked with a slight smile. After about a dozen of Gunn's make-shift defense classes, with two of these guys and occasionally a few other members of The Watch helping out, the mathematician had a hard time feeling any fear of either man. Oh, he knew that both could probably kill him a dozen different ways if they needed to. The ever-silent, but extremely patient, Rye could literally _throw_ him around without breaking a sweat. Devon was almost a foot taller than him and was apparently considered one of The Watch's most skilled fighters, but he was also one of the most energetic and cheerful twenty-something-year-olds that Charlie knew. And Keenan—or Keen' for short—wasn't a member of Gunn's gang, but the professional boxer and UFC* fighter also regularly took part in The Watch and he'd come to every one of Charlie's '_Math for Dummies_' classes at Angel's House. So while Charlie was absolutely certain he wouldn't stand a chance against any of the three—or any of the fighters who took part in The Watch—in a real fight, he also knew that they'd never intentionally hurt him unless he gave them an unforgivable reason to. Everything, from helping to teach him how to defend himself, which still mostly consisted of learning how to fall correctly, ducking, some blocking and a lot of running to get him in shape, to why they were here tonight, was done to protect him. (5)

"We're watchin' yer back, Doc," Devon replied, and Charlie was sure the giant was grinning. Though, at the same time, he empathetically knew the cheerful man and all for the other Watch members that were here were entirely alert. Waiting for something to happen.

They were friends. Friends Don would probably have a hard time accepting and his parents might have a hard time accepting the actual gang members, too. But friends, nonetheless.

And really, most of the guys he knew weren't involved in some of the _horrific_ violence that tore apart and destroyed lives as surely as the supernatural evils did. They knew the people that were in those gangs, even had friends amongst them, but Gunn's group and the guys that he'd called back to LA—like Keenan, who'd moved to Las Vegas a few years back and had just returned a month ago—to help.

The Watch were quite different from the real gangs that fought for control of LA's streets. They were fighting to protect _everybody_. They didn't sell drugs or rob or hurt people.

So the other gangs left them alone. And the few gangs that had made the mistake of causing even the slightest trouble for them quickly found themselves the targets of almost every other gang in the city.

"Like we're s'posed ta be," Keen added.

Gunn shook his head slightly. "You're s'posed to be keeping your distance, remember? So it doesn't _look_ like has guards."

"And we would," Keen replied slowly, his gravelly voice holding a distinct note of amusement. "If this place wasn't so damn crowded."

"Yeah, man," Devon cut in. "We can't watch from across the room. If somethin' happens we wouldn't be able ta help. There's no way we'd be able to mow through these monsters fast enough."

"I do hate to interrupt, my dear Cocoa Puffs and Meringue," the club's owner interrupted with a small smile as he brought Charlie and Gunn seconds of their nonalcoholic beverages, continuing softly before his frowning human guests could reply. "But many of said monsters have excellent hearing, several do eat humans and many more are just happy to kill them for sport. So insulting them isn't really the Devil's Food kind of ideas, it's more like the Peanut-Butter-Thing*: crunch, gooey, sticky, sickeningly sweet, messy and otherwise bad. Even for dear friends of The Slayer." (6)

Charlie had started looking around when Lorne mentioned his other guests, as the others probably had, too.

He hadn't been surprised to see many inhuman eyes glaring at them, which was bad as they did need to leave later and even though his not-quite-professional guards were undoubted armed to the teeth, it still felt dangerous. And undoubtedly _was_.

But it also wasn't surprising that most of the monsters looked away when Lorne finished his long winded, food oriented rebuke with a comment associating them with Buffy.

"Thank you for the advice, Lorne," Charlie replied quietly as he forcefully returned his attention to his drink.

"Yeah, thanks, m—"

It took Charlie a moment of though to figure out why Gunn had stopped so abruptly. And so uncomfortably, too.

It hadn't been easy, convincing Gunn and several of the other Watch members that not all demons were evil. That they couldn't afford to go to war with all of them. That they really needed to focus their efforts on those that were truly a threat to humanity in some way or another. And it'd been even hard getting them to accept that some demons were actually friendly and worth knowing.

Lorne was the clearest example of the latter that Charlie could imagine. Buffy claimed the only other clear example of 'harmless demon' she presently knew was a demon named Clem who ate kittens but was otherwise alright. But it was clearly something the hunters would have trouble with for a while. Still, the fact that Gunn's instinctive response to the demon's assistance was positive had to be a good thing.

"Not a problem, Pudding, it is the humble host's duty, after all, to ensure that—"

"Wait," Charlie stopped him with an incredulous frown. "Did you just call us Cocoa Puffs and Meringue? And Pudding?"

"That I did," the host grinned.

"How am I—"

"The delicate combination of perfectly whipped egg-whites with gradually added azucar* and the oh-so essential bit of cream of tartar?" (7)

"Uh, yeah. I think."

"Well, I should think that'd be obvious, but I suppose I shall elaborate nonetheless—"

"I believe," Lindsey McDonald cut in as he took the empty seat in between Charlie and Keenan with an aplomb that Charlie didn't want to be impressed by, his tone was indulgent as he continued. "That the egg-whites are the human essence that evolution had whipped to the highest level available, empowered by the tartar, or the knowledge your predecessors left for you to learn from the system of education that behaved so sweetly for you. Mr. Deathwok* may also be implying that you're a little stiff and shiny, but for meringue that's a good thing." The lawyer held out his hand with a friendly smile. "Good evening, Dr. Eppes. I'm glad to see your could make it." (8)

Charlie ignored the pro-offered hand, taking a long sip from his drink instead. Though it was a little tempting to try to read the man's emotions by shaking his hand, Collins had sensed Charlie's empathetic ability the instant it'd tried to read him from skin-on-skin contact, and he'd claimed human empaths were exceedingly rare and valuable for that reason. And the genius didn't want to risk giving McDonald any more of a reason to take interest in him.

"You bake, Mr. McDonald?" Lorne asked after a second of tense silence, his tone superbly polite.

"No, Mr. Deathwok." McDonald replied, smoothly lowering his hand as he turned to answer the host. "But you are not alone in your fascination with human cuisine. And we at _Wolfram & Hart_ feel knowledge in such areas can be invaluable every now and again. I'll have a _No Regrets_*, please." (9)

"Coming right up," Lorne nodded, hurrying away.

"I must admit I'm a bit surprised to see you here, Dr. Eppes," McDonald told him as he turned back to him with a smile, completely ignoring Gunn and the others. "You were so cold at your little welcoming party at _CalSci_, I half expected you to ask big brother to bite me. Not that that'd be good for his career as a federal officer, any more than all the digging he's been attempting as of late, of course, but he looked like he might just be protective enough to do it."

Charlie glared at him, "I still have no interest in any consulting of any kind for your company, Mr. McDonald. And your threats against my friends and family are more likely to make me more contrary to the idea, rather than amiable."

Both of McDonald's eyebrows rose and his tone was a bit sardonic as he replied, "I'm not sure I know what 'threat' you're referring to, professor. While _Wolfram & Hart_ has plenty of resources at its disposal to handle such instances, we haven't, to my knowledge, made any real moves against you. The little bit of advice I gave you at your—uh, _Angels' House_, isn't it?—Was just that, a friendly bit of advice."

"I'm very good at codes and ciphers, Mr. McDonald. Always have been." Charlie shook his head, still more than a little disorientated at not being able to read the lawyer's emotions. "And your anagram was more than a little obvious."

The lawyer nodded in a show of politeness when Lorne set his drink in front of him, then took a long, considerate sip before he met Charlie's accusing stare with a small smirk. "Obvious is not something people in my line of work can afford to be. Especially at my firm."

Charlie frowned, "What does—"

"Furthermore, the Senior Partners are still interested in wooing you. They haven't authorized any real threats, yet."

"But the note—"

"I don't believe you've ever seen me write anything, Professor, so how could you possibly recognize my handwriting?"

"I d—well, it wasn't hand written, but the message—"

"Was undoubtedly unnerving, I understand. And while I have written some frightening and unpleasant correspondences before, and even delivered a few myself in the past, I've never written or commissioned one to you. Or Miss Summers."

After a moment of conflicted silence, Charlie shook his head. "Why would I—"

"Believe me?" McDonald shrugged. "Because you're one of those sweet, innocent people that likes to believe the best of people. Innocent until _proven_ guilty, and all."

Charlie flinched a little at the reference. That such an important ideal could be twisted around in such a way was more than a little sickening. But, considering the company McDonald worked for—dubbed 'Hell Incorporated by Lorne and Buffy—there had to be some degree of truth in the reference.

"Although, if it'd make you feel better, I'd be more than happy to sing for our host?" the lawyer offered with a clearly amused grin.

Gunn spoke before Charlie could, "Why would that—?"

And was promptly cut off by the lawyer. "Because Mr. Deathwok, although different from most of his clan in his interests, still has the same innate mystical senses that allows him to read us. Particularly when we sing for him. Our emotions, auras—as a result of our history—and to some extent our future, are visible to him. Good seers of his sort can even seek out the answers to specific questions. And Mr. Krevlornswath Deathwok _is_ very good."

"Wait," Devon was frowning as they turned towards him, and he shook his head. "All these, uh, demons, know he can do this and they still come here and—"

Everyone in the group winced as the squeaky-voiced, scale-skinned demon on stage singing some kind of opera hit a note that probably wasn't really in the song.

"Why?" Devon finished incredulously.

McDonald shrugged. "Why does anyone do Karaoke? It's entertainment. Those of us that are really good get to show off and everyone else can get drunk and fool around. Those who want Mr. Deathwok's advice get it. Many of those that don't do too." He took a long sip of his drink, shaking his head rapidly as though to clear t, before raising an eyebrow at Charlie again. "So? Shall I sing?"

Charlie stared at him for several long seconds, not able to think of where the lawyer might be going with this, but then nodded slowly. He supposed getting Lorne to do a reading of the man might be helpful, even if he didn't know why the man was willing to have it done in the first place. He slowly nodded his head.

"Great." McDonald nodded, before raising an eyebrow at Lorne. "My guitar—"

"Is in the closet back stage, right where you left it," the host nodded to him, his red eyes following the lawyer as the man made his way to the stage. Watching as the sea of demons that generally looked down their noses at humans when they were in a good mood, respectfully made way for a high-ranking employee of _Wolfram & Hart_. Then he turned his gaze to Charlie. "So other than the threat, what do you want me to look for here?"

_2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**High School Halls, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 24, 1997**_

Buffy shook her head as she made her way through the school's hallways, biting back the urge to swear heatedly.

Who'd have thought that an empath—even an only just newly empowered one—would have such a hard time talking to two of her best friends about feelings?

But so far she hadn't been able to get word one out of Willow or Xander. Somehow both had managed to evade talking about anything substantial in the few instances that both of them were alone with her in the library, while Giles had been on the phone in his office. Then Oz had shown up, only a few minutes before Cordy'd breezed in.

So here she was, storming through the hallway about an hour after school had ended. Supposedly she was heading over to the hotel Post was staying in. Giles had said that Faith had already volunteered to walk the woman over, but Buffy wasn't overly fond of the idea of leaving her sister Slayer alone with the ex-Watcher. No matter how clean the Englishwoman had supposedly come with them, Buffy still didn't trust her.

Still she really hadn't needed to leave yet. Faith wouldn't be going over to the hotel for at least half an hour, but Buffy hadn't wanted to stick around in the library with Giles frantically scrounging for even the slightest clue on where the glove might be, while Xander and Willow kept glancing at each other while their significant others weren't looking.

Buffy stopped abruptly as a wave of concern hit her from slightly behind her, and was already turning when a familiar voice met her ears.

"Miss Summers?"

The Slayer blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly as she met the school guidance councilor's gaze. "Mr. Platt. Hi." She tilted her head to the side slightly as she looked him over, raising an eyebrow. "I, uh, I didn't know you were coming—uh, welcome back!"

"Honestly I wasn't sure myself until just a few days ago." Platt shook his head slowly. "I used up most of my vacation time visiting my sister's family in San Diego. Spent a lot of time just thinking in between playing with my nieces."

Buffy nodded slowly, half her attention pulled in by all of the conflicted emotions she could feel behind Platt's primary emotion, which seemed to be concern. Concern for her, maybe right now. But just concern in general too. "And?"

Platt smiled slightly, shaking his head again. "And I remembered all the kids here that needed me. That I can help. Figured that comin' face to face with the kinds of stuff that a lot of them want to talk about isn't a reason to run out on them. I always assumed some of the scary monsters they talked about were just, I don't know, fantastical facsimiles for the real problems in their lives, or something like that."

The Slayer nodded again, "Most people don't want to believe the monsters are real. Even when they've seen 'em." She cocked her head to the side a little more. "Most people run away when they do see what really goes on. Then they pretend it never happened or leave town."

"Yeah, well. I grew up in the Bronx. Spent a lotta times dodging gangs and all that sorta human crap." Platt sighed, "When I read about all the gangs on PCP stuff around here, I was expecting to see those sorts of problems here in school."

"But you haven't seen any gang members yet."

"No. No, I haven't. Just all the kids that are afraid of them but even more afraid of admitting it. Took a heck of a lot of effort to get any of 'em to talk at all. You were actually easier than most, even though you barely said anything substantial when we did talk."

"Yeah," Buffy shook her head. "Well, I got used to dealing with Sunnydale's monsters a while ago. It's kind of my job."

"But you're...you're just a girl." Platt was frowning as he shook his head again. "You haven't even finished high school yet."

"Yeah. But most people can't handle what I deal with almost every night." Buffy shook her head suddenly, frowning as she glanced outside. "If you're gonna stick around and help people, that's great. But you should be real careful about it. Don't draw too much attention to yourself. And _please _don't stay late again." She shook her head in response to the clear confusion she could feel her words stirring up. "This school is about the worst place you could be after dark."

Platt stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head yet again. "You and your friends are here a lot after hours. Almost every time I've stayed late the lights in the library were still on when I left. I've driven by here not long before midnight a few times and seen 'em on."

"We can't do too much research during school hours. And most of the monsters don't come out while the sun's still up, so we do most of our work at night."

The counselor nodded slowly. "I suppose that's when most of these gangs come out, too?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Buffy frowned at him. "Don't get any ideas about them, though. They're all lost causes."

"But—"

"They're not human. And they kill humans." The Slayer shook her head again. "Mr. Platt. A few weeks ago you saw me jump out your window to go after two real-life monsters. That's not something most people could do. And definitely not something you could do."

"Oh I know. I know. But—"

"You can't talk to any of them, either. Can't get them to talk their problems out or anything like that. They might find you amusing enough to listen to for a few minutes. This isn't like those super-hero-cartoons where the villains kidnap innocent people and the heroes rescue them but no one gets hurt. Once they've grown bored with you, if they were even willing to hear what you had to say in the first place, they'll just kill you. You come face to face with any of them and you're dead. With maybe a few minutes left if they want to toy with you." Buffy stared at the older man for several long seconds before shaking her head again. "Just do me a favor, okay? _Please_ don't do anything stupid. If you want to stick around and help some of the kids that have to live here, great. But don't try to deal with the monsters. That's my job. Please let me do it."

Platt stared at her again for several long, long seconds, before he nodded slowly. She could sense he wasn't all that happy about it, but he wasn't all that surprised either.

"Why the long face?"

Buffy blinked at him.

"When you were storming by here before, you looked like you had something on your mind. Obviously it wasn't anything to do with me, since you weren't expecting to see me again, but maybe it's something I could help with?"

"I..." Buffy sighed and shook her head again. "I don't think so. Not really." As his concern towards her seemed to get a little more intense, she shook her head yet again. "It doesn't have anything to do with the, uh, monsters. I mean, we do have a monster problem to take care of this week, that's kind of the norm, but it's not—I'm not really worried about that."

"I don't suppose it has anything to do with your being in the hospital for several days early last week?" When she blinked at him again, Platt elaborated. "I think you'd be surprised how many of my students look up to you. Care about you." He shook his head. "I think they know about everything that you do for them, or know enough to be grateful to you for it, even if they won't talk about it."

Buffy looked down for a moment, blinking rapidly to suppress the surprised tears that wanted to well up at this revelation. She swallowed, and drew in a deep breath before looking up again. "Thank you, but no. It's not that, either... I'm just trying to keep some of my best friends from doing something stupid, and I'm not sure how to do it."

Now Platt blinked, clearly surprised, but then he smiled warmly. "Well, that's a bit more normal than I'd honestly come to expect from you."

"Typical teen angst?" Buffy laughed slightly as he shook his head. "Yeah, even I see a bit of that."

Platt nodded, "Have you tried talking to them about your concerns?"

The Slayer sighed, "My sis—my foster-sister, she pointed it out to me last night." She shook her head, deliberately not thinking about how Faith fit into all this. Though she would have to worry more about her sister Slayer's education soon, if the Council didn't send someone who was actually equipped to help out. "I've been trying to talk to them about it all day, but we don't have that much time to talk in class, I think they're avoiding talking about the issue when I try to bring it up, not that I'm sure on how to do that, and I can't talk about it when their, uh, when some of my other friends are there." She blinked as she finished. "And now I'm kinda channeling Willow..."

Mr. Platt laughed, then shook his head, still smiling. "Well, if you can't talk to them about it while your other friends are around, you might want to set up a way to talk to them when those friends aren't there."

"Yeah. But how?"

"Tell them you needed to talk to the two of them. Name a time and an at least somewhat private place." The counselor shook his head. "If nothing else, it's a start, right?"

"I guess. But—"

"When they're there, you called the meeting so you'll be calling the shots. Tell them of your concerns and then listen to what they have to say." Platt shook his head, "It's not rocket scientist, and you're a very smart girl, Miss Summers. You'll do fine."

Buffy looked down again for a moment, smiling slightly as she hoped she wasn't blushing at yet more unexpected praise. Finally she looked up again. "Thanks." She glanced at the clock she could see over his shoulder and winced, "I've gotta go soon, are you—?"

"Sunset's not till after six, at least. But I just came in to tidy up a bit and get these notes," he nodded to the notebooks he was holding. "I have to review them before my meetings tomorrow."

Buffy nodded, reassured, but blinked again as what he said registered. "You keep notes on us?" she asked, frowning slightly.

Platt laughed. "Of course I do. It'd be impossible to keep track of every one's problems and help them if I didn't. I talk to between two and four dozen people each week on a semi-regular schedule. A lot of them have the normal concerns about grades and college, but there are other problems, too. Obviously. But while someone like you or poor Debbie is memorable enough to stick with me, I don't want to forget the quiet ones that I have to drag little answers out of either."

"That makes sense, I guess," Buffy agreed, nodding slightly. But she kept frowning as something else occurred to her. "Snyder doesn't get—"

"Patient confidentiality. Mr. Snyder doesn't get more then the barest answers from me about anyone, if that."

"Like whether he can kick me out of school for being unstable?"

"Yes. Something like that." Platt agreed, and for some reason that made him grin. "But I don't think you'll have to worry about that much longer."

Buffy blinked, then raised an eyebrow. "About Snyder kicking me out the first chance he gets? Or tormenting me at every available opportunity? ...That's kind of the norm since he got here."

"Yes, but a lot of the faculty I've spoken to today seem to be under the impression that he won't be around much longer."

Buffy's eyes widened, "He's getting canned? Xander'll be thrilled!" She finished with a wide grin, then shook her head. "Actually, forget Xander. _I'm_ thrilled!"

Platt laughed again, "I thought you might be. Don't go spreading any rumors yet, I'm not sure it's finalized. But it sounds like the Superintendent has been trying to replace Snyder anyway, and the man he sent to monitor Snyder is actually more qualified then he is, and apparently open to the idea after spending some time here."

Buffy blinked again. "The guy that's dating Miss Glenn?"

That made Platt blinked. "I hadn't heard about that. Though it explains why he might be more willing to stick around." He shook his head. "Still, it makes me think there might actually be hope for this school."

"Yeah." Buffy nodded in agreement, looking down for a moment. She bit her lip, then shook her head again and looked up. "You know, you don't have to think about all the crazy stuff going on in this town to help the kids that are living here. You can suppress, too. It's OK if you want to."

Platt stared at her again for another long moment, then shook his head. "It might be OK to _want_ to, Miss Summers. But I don't think it's OK for me to do so."

"But—"

"Even though I don't know much about what's going on, I know enough to try and help, I think. Enough to know that Sunnydale High School probably needs competent counselors more than any other school in the country... I can't say I want to know that much more about what's going on." He grinned a little, "Though I might appreciate some tips on how I might stay safe, how my students can stay safe. But I'll still always be willing to listen, alright?"

Buffy blinked again, "What—"

Platt reached into one of his inner coat pockets and withdrew a little card. "I had these made before coming back. My office number and hours are on there. My mobile and house phones are too. You can call me any time you want to talk, OK? You might need an appointment during my work hours, but I'll always try to accommodate you as best I can."

Buffy looked down, a little surprised at just how relieved the card she was holding in her hand made her feel. She could call Charlie any time to talk about anything. Or talk to Giles about the supernatural stuff. Or her mom about the drama of being a teenager. But talking to Platt had really made her feel better not too long ago. She hadn't openly said anything, really, but talking to someone who knew nothing about Angel and had no real connection to her had been a lot more helpful then she'd expected it to be. She shook her head a little as she slipped the card into one of her coat pockets before looking up again. "Thanks."

"No, Miss Summers. Thank you... For saving my life, and probably many others." Platt shook his head. "Sunnydale has a horrifically high death rate for such a small town, but it's dropped considerably in recent years. And I'm pretty sure you've had something to do with that."

The Slayer nodded slowly. "I guess I have." She winced again after glancing over his shoulder at the clock again. "I've gotta go... I'll try and drop off some safety tips for you soon, OK?"

"OK. Thanks."

"Your welcome," she replied, smiling slightly as she turned and started hurrying down the hallway at a fast walk that was still a lot more relaxed then before.

It almost seemed like Charlie had started some kind of 'thanking her for the life-savage thing'. Cause a lot more people had done it since then, compared to her first few years as the Slayer.

She already knew the basic tips she'd be writing up for Platt.

A lot of obvious ones like the not going out after dark. Especially on foot. Wearing a silver cross what generally a good idea. Staying at home, indoors, after sundown was a very good idea. If you had to go out, don't go alone and cars are good things. Stopping for strangers, or even acquaintances you haven't seen in a while, isn't.

The kind of things a lot of Sunnydale residents kind of subconsciously knew to do anyway. But hopefully they'd keep her new friend and his students even safer.

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Friday, October 24, 1997**_

Charlie glanced at his phone, then took a long sip of his steaming herbal tea, letting it wash soothingly down his throat even as he knew the tea couldn't stand a chance against the worries that plagued his mind. Worries that, hopefully, weren't troubling Annie.

She had more than enough on her plate.

And she'd been thinking of Angel. And Angelus. Again.

Several times this week, actually. Though the worst 'episode,' he supposed he could call it, was on Tuesday. Apparently the ex-Watcher/witch that had come to warn them about the glove had made some kind of derogatory remark about the ensouled-vampire, and of course Annie wasn't going to allow that.

She'd told him about that without even being asked. She'd known that he would have felt her intense emotions at the time, and had obviously felt an explanation was due when they'd spoken later that day.

He hadn't asked her about the other times she'd thought about him. Or even asked Sineya about the little wisps of sadness that still occasionally drifted over their bond. He didn't need to ask to know what that was about. He just knew.

Personally, he wasn't entirely sure just what he felt towards the ensouled vampire. But with his own ties to the Slayer that had loved—and probably always would, to some extent, love—the dark-creature-turned-hero, he couldn't think of them as one and the same. The vampire and the human-soul were separate in his mind. Even more so than Annie, herself, was able to see them.

While Annie certainly separated them in their actions and didn't blame Angel for his demon's deeds, still, when faced with the vampire himself, she couldn't help but see the face of her first love.

Of course, the empathetic abilities that had been born from their bond, and Sineya's constant presence in their lives, certainly _might_ make a difference in any future confrontations between them. For Angelus did not love. It was a fairly well established fact that a soul was needed for that.

And there would be a future confrontation of some sort.

He didn't know why he was so sure of it. But according to Dr. Giles, the dimension that Angel had been banished to would be horrendous for him, but as one of the undead Angel would not die of old age. He could come back. Perhaps not with his mind fully intact, but back nonetheless.

And for some reason Charlie was sure that this would happen.

Ever since Lorne's reading of _Wolfram & Hart_'s ruthless lawyer.

Who, surprisingly, had in fact that nothing to do with the whole Slayer Fest fiasco. Lorne had been sure of that. But just as sure that the lawyers of Hell Incorporated were planning something. Something that the helpful demon couldn't quite see, but both Lorne and Charlie had still sensed it.

Charlie had been a bit surprised to learn that his empathetic abilities were a bit like Lorne's, in that a singing individual really was easier to read. So perhaps the notion of 'pouring your heart out' into a song had some basis in empathetic fact.

But he'd been seized by this certainty then, too. That Angel/Angelus would be back. And so had Sineya.

Now, the connection he'd made to Angel may've been more related to Annie still wanting him back then anything else. Wanting his forgiveness. Because they definitely influenced each other. And Annie had been thinking about the vampire recently.

But somehow Charlie was sure that that wasn't it. And so was Sineya.

_Wolfram & Hart_ was planning something. Even as they 'wooed' him, or tried to. And somehow Angel/Angelus was involved.

Charlie glanced at his phone yet again as he finished those contemplations. He'd glanced at that phone many, many times already this evening.

Wondering all the while: What was he going to tell Annie?

"What are you still doing up?"

Charlie started slightly, wincing as some of the hot liquid in his cup splashed over the edge and onto his hand. He then set the mug down on a coaster before turning around to look at his father, who was coming carefully down the stairs.

Alan Eppes was stepping lightly and avoiding the steps that creaked, because his wife was very light sleeper. The older man raised an eyebrow at his youngest son as he reached the bottom, shaking his head slightly in disapproval. "It's almost midnight and you're drinking tea?" their was a trace of disapproval in his voice, too, despite how softly he spoke as he entered the living room.

Charlie rolled his eye, before shaking his head. "It's the herbal stuff that mom likes. There's no caffeine in it."

"I don't know," Alan shook his head. "It wakes your mother up awful quickly. There has to be something like caffeine in it."

That made the genius chuckle warmly. "That's just mom. She's a morning-person, remember?"

"Yes, yes," Alan agreed as he sat down across from his son. "That's not the sort of thing I'd be likely to forget is it? 'Specially since she was always a bit disappointed that neither of you boys took after her on that trait." He shook his head again after glancing at the clock, "Though with the hours you kids keep, it really doesn't surprise me that you need at least one good cup of Java to get you goin' in the morning at something resembling a reasonable hour."

Charlie nodded slowly. He remembered reacting to an off-handed comment his mother had made about it when he was younger. She hadn't even said that she'd wanted them to be morning-people, just jokingly bemoaned her lot in life, being the only morning-person in her family. He'd tried to pretend he was a morning-person by forcing it. But that hadn't worked. Then he'd made himself get up before everyone else and drink lots of juice—since he hadn't been allowed coffee or tea as a child—so that he was wide awake by the time his mother got up. But his family put a stop to that rather quickly, as it meant he was just sugar high and hyperactive for a few hours, until the sugar rush ended and he collapsed in the middle of the day in desperate need of a nap. In the end Don had actually figured out why he'd been doing it and then their mom had a long talk with him about it.

"I don't see any math books out."

Charlie blinked again, looking up to meet his father's concerned gaze. "What?"

"Are you working on something?"

The genius shook his head again. "No. Just thinking."

"About?" When Charlie didn't immediately reply, Alan glanced around again and his eyes fell on the cell phone sitting next to the coaster Charlie's set his tea down on. "Calling someone?" He raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly when the genius blinked at him. "Annie or your brother?"

Charlie blinked again, "What?"

Alan shook his head. "Those are the only two people you'd really want to call at this hour. And you just saw your brother a few days ago. He was fine. So you must be worried about Annie?"

"A little bit, I guess," Charlie nodded slowly. "She's been having a hard time lately."

"Trouble catching up in school?" There was a clear note of worry from the Eppes' family patriarch at that thought. The older man had become just as fond of the small blonde as his wife had. "I thought she wasn't hospitalized that long? And that her friends helped—"

"They did. They did help her." He paused for a moment, before sighing as he went on. "And I don't think she's having any problems academically right now. With the Superintendant's assistant watching over the school all the time the principal can't harass her and the teachers are all nice to her now, too."

"Harass—? Surely he wasn't that—"

"He tried to expel her at every chance he got before Mr. Walters was sent to rein him in."

"That's what he was officially sent there for?" Alan asked, slight skepticism and a bit of outrage peeking through the clear concern still hovering around the tired man. He usually rose around six on weekdays to be at work around seven-thirty. Normally he was in bed between nine and ten. And almost never up at midnight. He wouldn't be working tomorrow, since it was Saturday, so he'd sleep in a bit, but normally he was so tired on Friday nights after the whole week of work that he crashed early. And he certainly wasn't up and about at midnight or near to.

Charlie shrugged, "He was probably supposed to be evaluating Snyder's job performance, or something like that." Then he grinned. "But apparently he's willing to stay down there, so the Superintendent's firing Snyder and making Walters the principal."

Alan blinked, definite surprise now ringing over his concern. "He can do that? Doesn't Mr. Snyder have some sort of contract, or..."

"No, apparently not. For some reason the State's always had a hard time getting educators down to that school. And no one's willing to tie themselves down to a contract there."

Yet another example that the 'normal' people of Sunnydale weren't totally oblivious to the dangers that lurked around their homes.

"Hmm, that's strange. It seemed like such a nice little town when we were there. Specially since it still had a lot of the amenities you'd expect from a small city with the population still too low to be considered that. And the contracts are usually to protect them more than anything else, right?"

"Yeah. But that's just another one of Sunnydale's quirks, I guess."

"I guess so." Alan paused in pensive thought for several moments before raising an eyebrow at his son again. "I suppose you could call her. She seemed to be a night owl like you. She'd probably be partying at that club—Bronze something, wasn't it?—since it's a Friday."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, she's probably still up."

Mainly because she would have only just started patrolling some time in the last hour, and was usually up until two or three AM for that. But the excuse of Friday being teen-party night worked too.

But he really didn't want to interrupt her and Faith while they were on patrol. Especially since he wasn't even sure on what he wanted to talk to her about.

"You gonna call her?" his father asked gently.

Charlie shook his head. "No. We're supposed to talk some time tomorrow morning." Then he sighed. "And I'm not sure on what I want to say, anyway."

"What are you so worried about?"

Charlie let his father's warm, affectionate concern wash over his empathetic senses, letting out a small sigh of relief despite the fact that it did nothing to disperse or organize his own rather chaotic worries. Then he shrugged again. "I don't know." It was kind of hard to talk about his problems when they were so tied up in the supernatural world that his parents knew nothing about. But there were still some things he could talk to them about. "I mean, Snyder's not going to be a problem much longer. Dr. Williamson said Mr. Walter's is officially taking over on Monday. And Annie really seems to be doing pretty well with school."

"She's studying for the SATs and all, right?"

"Yeah," Charlie nodded again. "Her friends meet in the library a lot. And she's been studying in her spare time."

"...Is that all you're worried about?"

The mathematician shook his head. "No. I think Annie's a bit depressed, too."

"Why d—"

"She's been thinking a lot about Angel. Her, um, ex."

"Oh yes, she mentioned him a few times, didn't she? Angel. Strange name for a boy."

That made Charlie laugh and he shook his head at the amused grin his father sent him. "I'm not sure I'd mention that around Annie."

"No, I suppose she has the market cornered on somewhat strange names." Alan Eppes shook his head. "I almost asked her mother why she picked it while we were down there, but the two times I tried to bring it up your mother glared at me."

"Why?"

"I was just curious, but your mother seemed to think asking would be tactless."

"It _is_ tactless."

Both Eppes men started slightly, before turning their attention to the stairway, where the Eppes' matriarch was making her way down, a clear smile stretched across her face.

"Mom..." Charlie blinked at her, more than a little surprised. True, his back had been to the stairs and his attention split between his father and his own thoughts, but he'd gotten used to empathetically knowing when people were approaching him. Even people who were somehow shielded against empathetic reading still had a clear presence that he could feel coming.

So why hadn't he sensed her coming?

The only thing he could think of was that that specific part of his new abilities were tied somehow to the Slayer. To Sineya. Who probably didn't consider his mother to be even a remote threat, and therefore hadn't felt the need to alert him to her approach.

"I'm sorry, dear, did we wake you?"

Margaret Eppes smiled slightly, shaking her head as she came up alongside her son's chair. "No," she replied, while resting a gentle palm on her son's forehead for a second, before withdrawing it as she stepped around him and took a seat on the couch. "I couldn't hear you upstairs. I'm not sure what woke me." Then she raised an eyebrow at her son. "What's wrong?"

"Noth—"

"He's worried about Annie," Alan spoke over his son's feeble protest.

"Annie?" Margaret blinked, the same warm, affectionate concern her husband was gently radiating rising off her, too. "You still miss her, don't you?"

Charlie shrugged.

"Of course he does," Alan shook his head. "With how close you two grew over the summer, I was honestly surprised you didn't try to push her into staying in LA. Or trying to get us to rent a condo in Sunnydale, or something like that."

"You two were very close," Margaret agreed, smiling warmly as she added. "And probably always will be, I don't doubt."

Charlie blinked at her again in slight surprise. "Friends grow apart. Especially when they don't see each other." He wasn't expecting that with Annie, not with the bond that still seemed to be growing between them, but he was more than a little surprised that his mother sensed that, too.

"Yes, some do. But I don't think you two will."

"Me neither," Alan nodded in agreement, before continuing curiously. "Has she started looking at colleges, yet?"

Charlie shrugged again. "A little. She's not sure she wants to leave Sunnydale, though."

That surprised both his parents, though they didn't show it nearly as much as he felt it.

"Really?" his father shook his head. "She seems like such a big city girl, I'd think she'd jump at the chance to go to school here in LA. Or in another city."

Charlie shrugged again, saying nothing. It wasn't like he could tell them that she felt duty-bound to the Hellmouth and that she wouldn't be leaving unless Faith was definitely up to handling it on her own. Which she wasn't, at least not yet. Still, if she did end up leaving for school, he knew LA was about as far as she'd be willing to go. "I've been studying a lot of the school's around her, trying to find one that'd be a good fit for her."

His mother raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "You don't want her to go to _Cal-Sci_?"

Charlie shook his head, but his father spoke before he could reply.

"Of course not. He couldn't really start dating her if she was one of his students."

"Th-That's not, um..." Charlie felt his cheeks warm even as he blinked at his parents in surprise, watching his mother lightly hit his father's shoulder.

"_Alan_."

"What?" the elder Eppes protested innocently. "It's true!"

And it was. Though that wasn't why he'd discounted _Cal-Sci_ for Annie. Subconsciously, he knew—particularly with Sineya currently snickering in the back of his mind—that he may very well have considered that. But Cal-Sci was really a school for the Sciences, while he was pretty sure Annie'd be more comfortable with a school focused on the Arts.

But maybe not. He was still comparing programs, information on classes and teachers, activities and a wide array of other statistics needed to find the best school for his best friend. _Cal-Sci_ might be on the list, he really didn't know yet.

"I, uh, Annie, actually, said she was thinking of majoring in psychology." Charlie offered in response to his mother's initial question. "_Cal-Sci_ has an introductory class, of course, since most major's require it, but not the actual major."

"That makes sense," Margaret replied, smiling slightly as she nodded, before gently continuing, "Is that all you're worried about? Is Annie having trouble w—"

"She's doing fine academically," Alan smoothly brought his wife up to speed. "She's just a bit busy and stressed. And she's apparently still thinking about her ex."

"Oh, yes. Angel, right?"

Charlie nodded slowly, trying not to frown at the confusion that seemed to generate from his mother.

"Did Annie tell you what actually happened with him, Charlie? All Joyce would tell me is that he was too old for her and that it was a very messy break-up."

Charlie deliberately pushed the worry he felt about his mother talking to Joyce Summers about Angel/Angelus aside. Annie's mother had known, after all, that only Charlie knew about the supernatural. He shook his head. "She doesn't like to talk about him that much." And she honestly didn't, though she had talked to him quite a bit more then that statement implied. He was pretty sure she'd talked to him more about Angel then anyone else.

Because none of her other friends seemed to understand anything about Angel. Xander jealously refused to acknowledged that the vampire was capable of feeling, completely ignoring the facts that the vampire had his human soul and that Annie loved him. Willow seemed to appreciate how deep Annie's feelings for the vampire had been, but was rather focused on the idea that Annie should move on and get past them. Oz understood, though he didn't say much about it. Cordelia'd apparently had a crush on the vampire and been completely terrified of him at the same time. And Angelus had killed the woman Giles loved and tortured the Watcher himself, so it wasn't surprising that the Englishman hadn't moved too far past that emotionally. In fact, it'd impressed him that the man had been willing to speak kindly of Angel at all.

Still, none of them seemed to appreciate the fact that Angel was more like Annie, more like a Slayer, than any of her other friends. Not only because he could physically handle the fighting, but because he had no real choice. He didn't have the choice that the humans did. He'd had even less of a choice than Buffy and Faith did, because he was always stuck as a creature of the night. He _couldn't_ live like a human. Couldn't walk in sunlight. And had to drink blood. Had to put up with the demon in his head, taunting him. But he still chose to fight.

And Buffy Summers had known that Angel had chosen to fight for her. Yes, he'd wanted to atone for his past sins. For the evil deeds the demon had done with his body, but he'd also wanted to reclaim his humanity. For Buffy. Because he loved her.

And she'd had to send him to hell to save the world.

Charlie shook his head again, frowning slightly as he saw both his parents eyes were still on him. He blinked at both of them. "Don't you guys have to work in the morning?"

His parents blinks were practically in synch.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, Charlie," Alan reminded his son with a small smile. "I'm afraid you're stuck with us hanging around for the next two days."

"Oh," Charlie laughed. "Yeah. Sorry, forgot."

"Actually," his mother cut in with a small smile. "We'd been talking about going into see the shelter you and Annie helped Lily start up. We're both free this weekend, so we could go on either day."

"Oh, um—"

"You have one of your 'math for dummies' classes there tomorrow afternoon, right?" his father cut in, giving a fond shake of his head as he continued. "I love that name, by the way."

Charlie grimaced, "It's not—"

"It may sound insulting to you, Charlie," his mother cut in this time, smiling slightly. "But Lily says it makes your class more approachable for people that aren't that comfortable with math. She said you've had a full house for every one of your classes?"

The mathematician nodded slightly, "Well, yes, but isn't it a little insul—"

"I think everyone understands it's a joke." His mother reassured him. "And if it helps get everyone in the door, all the better, right?"

"I guess," Charlie sighed.

"Doesn't hurt that it's funny. What?" Alan spread his hands when his youngest and his wife looked at him. "It is."

Charlie slowly let himself be pulled into his parents teasing conversation, relaxing a bit as the worries that were plaguing him fell to the back of his mind. For the moment, he'd let thoughts of Lindsey McDonald, Gwendolyn Post, and everything else that was wrong in Annie's world cool down. Just like his tea, which he didn't feel the urge to drink while cocooned in the warm concern and affection his parents surrounded him with.

He'd have to face it all, again, in the morning. But for now, he'd let it rest.

* * *

_**End of Chapter 10: Frienemies – Part I.**_

**

* * *

**

AN: FINALLY! It took me

_**forever**_** to finish this chapter! And it was particularly annoying, since it was really just the last two scenes that I had trouble with. _**  
**Anyway, sorry for the wait. Hopefully Part II doesn't take as long. I don't think it will, since most of the action comes out then, but I guess we'll have to wait and see.**

**NOTES FROM CHAPTER:**  
**(1) An interregnum is "a period of discontinuity of a government/organization... [Like] the period of time between the reign of one monarch and the next." (Latin = "inter" + "rgnum" or "between" + "reign"). **  
**There were actually two interregna that Giles was referring to when he mentioned the "English Interregnum" as an excuse for why the Council wasn't more diligent in the 1600s. The first was 1649-1660, after the regicide of Charles I to the restoration of Charles II, when Oliver Cromwell and the Protectorate were in charge of England. The second was considerably shorter, following the deposition of James II on December 23, 1688 in the Glorious Revolution, until "the installation of William III and Mary II as joint sovereigns on February 13, 1689 pursuant to the Declaration of Right." (**URL: .org/wiki/Interregnum**)**  
**This is relevant because Darla was Sired in 1609, but wouldn't kill Liam O'Connor and Sire Angelus until 1753. If the Council had killed her before that, theoretically, Angel wouldn't have come into being. And, also theoretically, the political turmoil in England during the interregna and all the historical drama in between could very well have threatened the Council. **

**(2) According to Wikipedia (**URL: .org/wiki/Richard_Riley**), Richard Riley was the U.S. Secretary of Education under President Bill Clinton, and he held the post from 1993-2001, so he would have been the Secretary in the timeframe ****A Call Away**** is set in. Other than what's offered on Wikipedia, I know nothing about the man and don't mean to be insulting towards him at all here. I just threw his name in to add some historical context to the timeline and show just how high up the CA Superintendent tried to go to get some help with Sunnydale, only to have the 'supernatural syndrome' and possibly someone high up in the government —*cough*Initiative*cough*— shut him down. Something I've no trouble imagining at all, and it fit into the story well, so... *shrugs* But, again, I meant no disrespect to Mr. Riley himself. Though with the Initiative context in mind as I was looking up the man's name, I was a little amused when I saw his last name. Then adding Sunnydale's not-so-lovable Mayor to the same thought process didn't help. -_-***

**(3) I thought I should mention here that Charlie is NOT A Cal-Sci graduate in **_**M&M**_**. Mostly because it wasn't something I'd worked into the storyline. Here, he got both his bachelors and his doctorate at Princeton. And he's starting as a Professor before his 20th birthday. Perhaps a bit illogical, but Charlie's special. And no ones complained about this already, so I assume it's not too much of a stretch. **  
**What about England and the time he's supposed to spend there with Susan Berry? He's twenty-nine going on thirty at the start of **_**NUMB3RS**_** and nineteen right now. So I have ten years to fit something of that sort in. Though, honestly, a relationship with Susan Berry isn't likely.**

**(4) I made a technical error when I had Charlie use Google for research in 1996. Since it didn't exist then. I **_**did**_** appreciate being told as much, especially since everyone was so nice about it, but decided to leave it anyway, writers license. But, as a result, I wanted to check when I threw e-bay in, just to be sure I could. And I was very happy to learn that "the world's largest online marketplace…was born over Labor Day weekend in 1995." Its "initial public offering" was in 1998, which I believe means that's when the company started selling stock and the like, but Pierre Omidyar's auction website **_**did**_** exist in 1996. (URL: .)**

**(5) The ****Ultimate Fighting Championship**** (or UFC) is a U.S.-based mixed-martial arts (MMA) organization. "Estimated in 2008 to be worth $1 billion while controlling 90% of the mixed martial arts industry, it is the largest mixed martial arts promotion in the world…" It's owned and operated by Zuffa, LLC, from its headquarters in Las Vegas, Nevada. "The UFC focuses on the heavier weight classes in MMA... [it] began as a single-event tournament to the find the world's best fighters, irrespective of their style (including boxing, kickboxing, wrestling, karate, and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, among many others). Although there were a number of rules, promoters marketed fighting in the UFC as **_**no holds barred**_**, and contests were often violent and brutal. Early UFC fights were less sport than spectacle, which led to accusations of brutality and "human cock fighting" by Senator John McCain and others. Political pressures eventually led the UFC into the underground as pay-per-view providers nixed UFC programming, nearly extinguishing the UFC's public viability."**  
**In response to the intense political pressure, "the UFC reformed itself, slowly embracing stricter rules, becoming sanctioned by the state athletic commissions, and marketing itself as a legitimate sporting event. Dropping the **_**no holds barred**_** label; and carrying the banner of **_**mixed martial arts**_**, the UFC has emerged from its political isolation to become more socially acceptable, regaining its position in pay-per-view television... UFC programming can now be seen...in the United States and Canada, as well as 34 other countries worldwide." **(URL: .org/wiki/UFC**)**  
**In other words, Keenan **_**really**_** knows how to fight. Since he's been fighting in the UFC events before the reforms that occurred around 2000. Honestly I don't know that much about this event, but when I was looking for possible backgrounds for some of the Watch members, my cousin recommended trying to fit an older member into this, so Keenan was born. Yes, most of the other members of Gunn's gang definitely know how to handle vampires. Especially since I've changed his age around a bit, making him a little older than he was supposed to be when Angel met him, which means he'd been fighting them for a while before he met Charlie and joined the Watch. Nonetheless, this was just an interesting note to add into Keenan's background, which also made Lindsey's decision to completely disregard him kind of amusing. **

**(6) The Peanut Butter Thing is a dessert served at the restaurant **_**Not Your Average Joe's**_**. Since it's been on the menu forever, obviously people like it. I don't particularly dislike it, though I'd be much more likely to order some kind of chocolaty-dessert. Nonetheless, its inclusion in Lorne's tirade really wasn't meant to offend anyone. It just seemed to fit. And I like the idea of Lorne going to different, public restaurants to try stuff like that. He could probably get away with it, just saying he was an actor in costume, etc. I don't think **_**Not Your Average Joe's**_** has made it to the West coast yet, but maybe Lorne's travelled a bit. *shrugs***

**(7) Azucar = sugar in Spanish. It just sounded better. And I don't think it's a stretch to imagine that Lorne would know Spanish. Don't ask me where the whole meringue analogy came from. I made lemon meringue pie a few days ago and this just seemed to fit in with Lorne's food obsessive nicknames. I really can't think of anything else to explain it.**

**(8) Lorne's full name is Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan, so Deathwok could be considered his surname. And Lindsey McDonald would know it. **(URL: .org/wiki/Lorne_(Angel)).

**(9) A No Regrets is ½ oz Gold Tequila and ½ oz Bailey's Irish Cream. I honestly couldn't think of a drink that Lindsey might favor, so I started looking through for drinks with fitting names, and I liked this one. And the name certainly fits, doesn't it?**

**Bye for now!**  
**Jess S**

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NEXT: _**Chapter 11: Frienemies – Part II.**_


	12. Chapter 11: Frienemies P2 of 3

**_Disclaimers_****: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
_Warnings_: Again, I can't think of any. This chapter's a little weird, but you guys have been putting up with my muses' flights of fancy for a while now, and I don't think this is too much weirder. If you see something you think you should've been warned about please tell me. **

**_AN_****: Hi everyone! **

**OK, this time I'm going to recommend a HARRY POTTER/BATMAN crossover called The Wizard of Gotham by Skysaber on . It's not finished, but so far it's been a very interesting—and amusing—read. The author's sense of humor can be a bit outrageous now and then, but it's a lot of fun to read as long as you remember that it IS supposed to be humorous and don't take it too seriously.**

**And, if anyone's interested in reading an interesting drama, I'd also like to recommend the book Orbit by John J. Nance. It's a fast-paced and fairly amusing read that I really enjoyed.**

**Sorry for the long wait! :-( It REALLY wasn't intentional. In fact, I feel pretty stupid now, because I really thought I'd already posted this chapter! -_-***

**Also, I would have had it posted this MORNING if FanFiction(dot)Net hadn't gotten rid of all of my formatting AND punctuation when I uploaded it. I seem to remember this happening the last time I posted a chapter here. Anyone know why? I tried uploading both a doc and an html file, neither worked. **

**Also, has anyone else had problems with the adds on this site? The add-blocker used to actually block adds for me, but now, no matter how many times I sign in and activate the add-blocker it doesn't work. :-(**

**Once again, thank you to ****_NeverTooOld_**** for beta-reading! :-D**

**Enjoy! ^_^**

**

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A Call Away

**_Part II in Mathematics & Magic_**

By Jess S

**_Chapter 11: Frienemies – Part II_**

**_

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Outside the FBI Headquarters, Los Angeles, California – Friday, October 25, 1997

Don knew he was frowning as he stepped out of the elevator and into the parking garage, where his partner was waiting. But he really couldn't help it.

Getting called up to the office of your boss's boss at the very end of the day probably isn't supposed to leave any good feelings in your gut or your head. That he was called up there to talk to a complete stranger about completely ridiculous stuff didn't help at all.

"You're still my partner, right?"

Don started, grimacing as he tried to shake off his inattention and focus on his partner. Coop'd said he'd be waiting in his car, but Don wasn't too surprised to find him waiting right outside the elevator. Don had his own car, but it was really just easier to let Billy drive most of the time. Plus the federally-issued SUV was a lot nicer than the Jeep he'd been driving around for the last few years.

"You are, aren't you?" Cooper asked again, raising an eyebrow at the younger agent's continued inattention. "'Cause I'd hate to have ta break in a new partner when I only just finished whipping you inta shape."

Don nodded, chuckling slightly in amusement. "Yeah, they didn't fire me." He raised an eyebrow. "Not that I can think of any legitimate reason they could use to do so."

"Normally I'd agree. But with all the busy work they've been giving us lately?" Billy grimaced, "I wasn't so sure. I mean, burying us while leaving half-a-dozen other teams with nothing to do is a lot dumber, and more obvious, then I'm used ta seeing the higher ups act." Then he shrugged, "'Course I've only been with a Bureau a few more years then you, so I can't really say much more then you."

Don nodded in agreement, "Yeah," then he sighed. "At least they've stopped burying us since I stopped looking into Charlie's assault."

"Yeah, tough-luck there," Coop shook his head again. "Though it's given the conspiracy theorists in some of our brethren a chance to come out of hiding."

That surprised an actual laugh out of him, "What?"

Coop shook his head yet again, though now shared amusement had taken the place of the frustration Don himself was still feeling plenty of, beneath the surprised amusement his partner's off-the-hand comment had inspired. "Yah, you gotta spend more time in the break room. Some of the theories flying around are really wacky."

Don frowned at him in slight bewilderment for several moments, but before he could ask, the older agent spoke up again.

"So what was the meeting about, anyway?"

Don winced, disliking the reminder of the very strange meeting he'd just suffered through, but obliging his partner nonetheless. "Some consultant from the NSA—or maybe the army, Weiss wasn't too clear on that."

"What'd he want?"

"She," Don corrected, then shook his head. "She was a psychiatrist, or something like that, I guess. Kept asking me a bunch of questions about my commitment to my job. To my country." He shook his head again, unable to stop the slightly confused expression that twisted his face. "Then she started talking about _monsters_."

"What, like, some of the con's we run down?"

"No, that I'd've been fine with," he grimaced again. "But she was asking about Dracula and Big Foot."

"_What?_"

"That's what I thought!"

"And she was a shrink?"

"Ye—Well, I think so. At the start she said she was considering outlining an advanced psych class for Quantico. She didn't actually say she was a psychiatrist."

"I'll drive," Cooper insisted as they reached the car, and seeing as Don's mind was really elsewhere he didn't bother arguing. "And she had official backing?"

Don sighed as he buckled his seatbelt, shaking his head yet again, "Well, Weiss introduced her, so I wasn't gonna ask for her credentials. Wanted to near the end there, but somehow I don't think she'd have given me anything."

"Huh," now Cooper was shaking his head as he put the key in the ignition. He turned the car on, but then he sat back in his seat and turned to raise an eyebrow at Don. "You haven't been investigating anything about what happened—"

"In Sunnydale, no. I said I wouldn't."

"What about what happened to your brother?"

Don glared, "I'm pretty sure you worked that into your little talking-some-sense-into-the-junior-agent speech." He shook his head again. "Besides, our workload's normal now, isn't it?"

Cooper sighed, but nodded as he put the car in reverse, replying as he looked over his shoulder to back up. "Yeah, I guess." A moment later they were out of the space, and he switched gears to drive and started driving out as he continued. "But then I don't have any idea on why they might sick a crazy lady on you."

"I don't know," Don frowned, looking out at the parked cars they were passing on their way out. His frown deepened, "But I'm gonna find out."

Coop sighed again as he pulled out into the fading sunlight and the traffic that always accompanied the twilight in LA. "I'm gettin' really sick of busy work, bud."

Don smirked, "I didn't say anything about Sunnydale or Charlie, did I? They can't punish me for looking into Dr. Walsh's background after a meeting as weird as that one was. I can't imagine any sane person _not_ wanting to know who that bitch is."

**_

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_**

Giles' Apartment, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997

It was shortly after midnight and Giles was pouring himself yet another cup of tea when the knock he'd been waiting for all evening—though not entirely expecting—finally came. Oh, he certainly expected Buffy and Faith to be back some time tonight, and hopefully with the glove, it was really just the knock that he _wasn't_ expecting.

"It's unlocked," the bemused Watcher called, smiling slightly as he poured a dollop of cream into the 'LUV THE LIBRARIAN' mug that Willow had given him last Christmas. "Would you care for some tea?"

"I think we wanna sleep tonight, Giles," Buffy replied immediately, a light laugh in her tone that was echoed in Faith's reply also.

"Yeah, none for me neither, G-man."

Giles shook his head as he put the cream back in the fridge before collecting his steaming mug from the counter on his way out of the kitchen. He nodded as he noted the obviously filled bag on his coffee table. A bag which he knew contained several more bags, all wrapped around the cloth he'd instructed the Slayers use when collecting the dangerous artifact.

Truthfully, he probably should've gone himself, but he hadn't been that sure about this lead when the Slayers had set out. Only Buffy's certainty that the cult crypt was where they needed to look had made him agree to the investigation. So he'd kept researching while the Slayers started digging their way through one of Sunnydale's nastier crypts. The more he uncovered however, the more he'd found pointed to his eldest Slayer being right. Thus, he'd agreed that 'checking out' the Von Hauptman family crypt was undoubtedly a good idea.

Which was why now, nearly four hours later, he wasn't all that surprised to see the girls had, in fact, succeeded. "I take it your venture was successful, then?"

**_

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_**

Giles' Apartment, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997

Buffy nodded, a bit tiredly after several hours of digging through several of the nearby cemeteries. Though it was, of course, more in the mental sense of over-exertion then physical, as physical tiredness was a very difficult state for a Slayer to reach. But it was the younger Slayer that answered the Watcher's query.

"Yup," Faith was grinning as she dropped down onto Giles' couch in a sprawl that somehow looked completely controlled and graceful. "Glove was right where you said it'd be. Kinda."

Buffy rolled her eyes, smiling slightly in amusement at the other teen's antics. Since apparently all of the brunette's earlier complaints—many of which Buffy had more quietly commiserated with—had been completely forgotten now that the damn glove had been found. She hefted the surprisingly heavy bag containing said artifact. It wasn't too, too heavy, of course. At least not to a Slayer. But it weighed enough to be noticeable on the walk back. "Where'd you want this?"

Giles blinked, but then set his tea cup down and moved quickly over to the trunk he'd picked out for the chore. "In here, please," he indicated the open trunk, waiting until Buffy'd set the glove—wrappings, multiple bags and all—in, before snapping the lid closed. He nodded in clear satisfaction as the pre-set spells immediately activated, making the trunk glow through a rapid series of colors before the glow disappeared entirely. "Yes, that should keep it for the time being."

"Why don't we just destroy it now?" Faith asked with a small frown. "Isn't keepin' it around here kinda just askin' for the Lagos guy to attack G-man? I mean, we have the ruby urn thing for the flame already."

"We do," Giles nodded again, before sighing. "But I've yet to find a full description of the ritual we need. And Mrs. Post is quite right in saying that we shouldn't rush into any ritual involving Living Flame. It is a very dangerous magic to call upon."

"What's the glove do, anyway?"

Giles took his glasses off and began polishing them in a move made graceful by plentiful practice even as his thoughts turned inward to the topic at hand. "Well, as Mrs. Post said, not many specifics are known about Myhnegon. We know he was a considerably powerful _war loga_*—an ancient warlock and merchant of war—in Ancient Rome. In the, um, first century before the common era, I believe. We do know he created several artifacts of great power, though we don't know the names he gave them. Which is important, because without a mystical artifact's name, full control of it can never really be achieved." (1)

"Didn't he keep any records?"

Buffy was the only one that wasn't startled—having empathetically sensed Willow's presence moment's before when the redhead had stopped just outside the open doorway. Though neither Faith or Giles actually jumped, they just tensed a little, relaxing as Willow passed through the doorway uninvited.

"I thought most of the ancient sorcerers' did that," the redhead finished.

Giles nodded as he set his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "Yes, most sorcerers and wicca did, but warlocks are much more secretive. Though many believe Myhnegon did, in fact, keep a _Grimoire_."

Buffy didn't quite get the relevance of that, and she sensed Faith didn't either, though the term sounded familiar. She thought it might be some kind of magic-book, but Willow obviously understood the significance, because she didn't need to sense realization dawn on the witch-in-training as she saw it clear across her face.

"But he wouldn't have sold that."

"No," Giles agreed. "While he did, in fact, sell most of his creations for profit, his _Grimoire_ would undoubtedly have been a treasured family heirloom."

"And you don't know Myhnegon's real name?"

"Huh?" Faith said before Buffy could, looking back and forth between the watcher and witch in confusion. "I thought it was Myhnegon?"

"No, Myhnegon was his mage-name, my dear. The name he did business and the like with. But he would've shared his real name with very, very few." The Watcher told him, continuing as they just kept staring at him in obvious confusion. "A person's real name can be used against them."

"What? Like gossip?" Buffy asked, still frowning. She knew it couldn't be something like that, but didn't stop the comment from slipping out anyway. She knew it was ignorant comments like that that kept Faith from feeling completely out of the loop and/or stupid when their smarter friends started smart-talking. It was something Buffy'd gotten used to just accepting, while struggling to understand, but if little displays of her not understanding made her sister-Slayer feel better occasionally she didn't mind. Besides, after awhile more and more of the 'smart talk' started making sense without being simplified.

Charlie had been a big help in that regard, when it came to anything mathematical or scientific. Literature and the like, however, often confused him. Frequently enough that she'd understood some of it before he had and had gotten the chance to explain it to him. A part of her thought he might've been pretending/exaggerating his ignorance some of the time since he knew she liked to be 'the one that knows' occasionally, but since Buffy herself did that more often then not for Charlie and all of her smart friends, she really couldn't hold it against him.

"No," this time it was Willow that answered. "Magically. A witch or warlock can use your name to do just about anything if they have enough power."

"Yes, though it was more a threat in ancient times, or even in the middle ages. As names were considerably more important then." Giles shook his head. "In this day and age most simply do not put as much store in their personal identity. Not beyond acknowledgement of their identity in regards to what belongs to them, banks accounts and the like. So that means most are much less vulnerable to a very dangerous field of magic. Of course, mages with that power and ability have always been rare."

"But it means we don't know who he really was," Faith finished.

"Yes," Giles nodded.

Buffy shook her head again, "But how do you know he created stuff then?"

"Oh there _were_ records detailing the Roman Emperor's transactions with the _war loga_. But they were, unfortunately, lost to the ravages of time." Giles shook his head, "And as such, nearly everything we know about them is at least second-hand."

"Oh." Buffy nodded slowly, then sighed before repeating her earlier question, as she was pretty sure the Watcher hadn't actually answered it. "Okay. So what's the glove do?"

"Oh, well Myhnegon was considered a master of the elements. Most of his artifacts were created to harness the raw powers of nature, in the case of The Glove," Giles gestured towards the sealed box. "It is believed he was intending to imitate the powers of Zeus. As after the Greek Pantheon lost interest in this dimension—"

"Wait, Zeus like the _god_ Zeus?" Buffy asked, eyes wide as she took another step away from the chest. "It can turn people into a god?"

"Yes, the god. And no, The Glove merely mimics Zeus' power to control lightning." Giles shook his head. "It may have other abilities, but that is the only one we can be certain of, based on historical evidence."

"Control lightning?" Faith asked, and her voice held some of the wariness Buffy could still sense radiating off of the brunette. Not that she didn't understand. The idea that someone could weaponize the raw powers of nature was more than a little scary.

"Yes, Myhnegon's glove grants it's wearer the ability to funnel lightning into it, store it for what is believed to be a very short time, and they can thereafter direct the lightning at any target of their choice."

"Oh." Faith glanced at the magically sealed chest again. "Cool. I guess." Though her voice was, again, more honest then her words. As her tone implied that it was about as 'cool' as a bazooka aimed in your direction might be.

After a long moment Buffy nodded again, "So how do we destroy it?" she glanced at Giles as she picked up on a distinct note of uncertainty from him. "We _are_ still destroying it, right?" Like her sister-Slayer, she really didn't like the idea of keeping the thing around.

"Yes, of course," Giles nodded, then sighed. "There are, in theory, two possible methods for destroy Myhnegon's creations. The first being a ritual involving Living Flame, which should certainly be more than capable of immolating the glove." The Watcher then gestured towards the tiny red urn the two Slayers had finally managed to find after several excruciating _hours_ of digging through Angelus-the-mystical-pack-rat's treasure horde. "Having a _vivus_*_ urn_ in our possession will certainly make this easier—" (2)

"So why don't we just destroy the thing, then?" Faith demanded, and Buffy nodded in agreement to the younger teen's idea again.

"Any spell or ritual involving Living Flame is extremely complex and intricate. It may take me some time to select the correct ritual for the procedure, and longer still to research the ritual thoroughly enough to perform it." Giles gestured towards the phone, "I have already informed Mrs. Post of your mission this evening, and we have agreed to research the rituals separately."

"So..."

"So we will, hopefully, be able to complete the ritual some time tomorrow evening."

Buffy nodded slowly, "You're sure we can't do it tonight?"

"Yes, I'm quite certain. It is unlikely that the ritual itself will be all that difficult. But _Living Flame_ is a very dangerous substance. " Giles shook his head. "Many mystical scholars have studied it, and the best summation of its power I've heard to date was one that likened it to the core of the Sun in raw power, with the additional point that it drains a great deal of a caster's power and in so doing attains a life of its own."

"That why it's called 'living?'?" Faith asked with a frown, one eyebrow raised. "Is it actually alive?"

Giles shook his head, his glasses sliding easily off his face as he took his handkerchief out to clean them. "That is the general idea, yes. Though we really have no way of knowing how sentient it actually is. Most scholars agree that the seemingly sentient actions of living flames are actually tied to the casters subconscious. Which is, of course, a very real possibility as the subconscious mind can have just as much power over one's magic as the conscious one, if the caster isn't careful."

"Subconscious?" Buffy frowned at him, "You mean like the Id, stuff like that?"

"Yes, precisely," the watcher replied, giving her an approving smile as he put his glasses back on. "The possibility of a spell-caster's subconscious desires filching control over the conscious mind—or to use Freud's terminology: the Id bypassing both the ego and super-ego's control—has always been a very real danger with magic. Which is, of course, why those who do use magic have to be so very careful. At least, the vast majority are. Thankfully."

Buffy nodded again, slowly as she considered her watcher's words. To some extent she already knew this. After all, she now knew several very powerful witches that lived in the nearby city. And Madam Ward—for some reason neither Buffy or Charlie could think of her with any other name, not her given name or even just 'Mrs. Ward,' no, it had to be _Madam _Ward—she'd been very firm in the need for them to learn and regularly practice meditation. Which, with their still growing empathetic powers and especially after her return to the Hellmouth, was understandable. After a few moments of thought she spoke up again. "OK. So we'll do this tomorrow? Maybe just after sundown?"

"Yes, that will do," Giles agreed, before glancing between the two of them. "Now perhaps you should turn in for—"

"It's barely past midnight, G-man," Faith cut him off with a smirk as she rose up off the couch in graceful looking move that most people simply wouldn't be capable of. "We still got ourselves a demon to find and at least a little bit a Sunnyhell ta beat red."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded her agreement, smiling slightly in amusement at just how pleased Faith was at the idea of hunting Lagos now that they didn't have to worry about him getting the glove before they found him. "We should probably split up though. Cover more ground that way."

Faith shrugged, "Sure, B. Whatever you think." She moved gracefully over to the door before turning to the watcher, eyebrow raised once more. "Should we both check back here later, G-man?"

Giles blinked, but then nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, of course. But I shall expect both of you to turn in no later than half-past two, as you need to be in full form tomorrow evening."

"Sure, Giles," Buffy grinned, before nodding to Willow, "Come on Wills, I'll walk you home. See you in a little bit, Faith."

"OK, B," Faith nodded in return, giving Giles a small wave as she made her way out the door. "See ya later, G-man."

Just as Buffy was about to follow her sister-Slayer out the door, a strange noise made her pause.

*BEEP*

"What was that?" she asked with a frown, looking around in slight confusion.

Giles blinked at her, "I really haven't slightest—"

*BEEP*

"—idea," the watcher finished, but his eyes were focused on the blonde Slayer even as she frowned down at her jacket's pocket.

Reaching into said pocket, Buffy pulled her cell phone out and flipped it open, frowning as what looked like the outline of a battery appeared on the screen. She'd seen the symbol before, but usually it was green. Now it was red. "Will, what's—hey!"

*BEEP*

The redhead had taken the phone out of her hand only to roll her eyes as she looked at the screen. "Your battery's low, Buffy. Haven't you been charging it?"

"Yeah, I plug it in every night!" the Slayer said defensively, only to frown in thought as it suddenly occurred to her that might not be true. "Except last night. And the night before. And—" she shook her head, "OK. I guess I don't plug it in _every_ night, but Charlie said you weren't supposed to... and I guess I just keep forgetting."

"Well, your battery's about to die. You need—"

*BEEP*

"Die?" Buffy couldn't help but glare at the offensive little device in her friend's hand. "It can't _die_. It's a machine."

"Yes, Buffy," Willow replied, and Buffy could sense the redhead's amusement just as clearly as she could hear it in the barely suppressed laughter behind the other girl's tone. "But machines need power to run. And this one is almost out of power, therefore it can't run until you give it more power."

*BEEP*

"Oh." Buffy blinked, unable to stop the deep frown that made it's way over her face then, suppressing a wince as the offensive sound started to get on her nerves. "So what do I do?"

Willow rolled her eyes, "You need to charge it." She shrugged. "I mean, you could just turn it off now and—"

"No, Charlie wouldn't be able to call me—"

"He has your home phone number doesn't he?"

*BEEP*

Buffy shrugged, "Well, yeah. But he never calls it. No matter how worried he is or how much trouble he's in, he always seems to think I'm worse off if I'm not capable of answering my phone." She shook her head. "And he never wants to be a problem for my mom, so he'd get a ride down here before calling my home phone."

"That doesn't make a lotta sense," Faith was frowning, though she also seemed more than a little amused.

The elder Slayer shrugged again, "That's Charlie." She couldn't help but smile as she shook her head yet again. "His math's all about logic, but sometimes emotional stuff doesn't fit into his thoughts."

*BEEP*

"Um, OK," Willow sighed, frowning down at the little phone. "Well, you need to plug it in soon, then. Otherwise it won't matter where it is, it won't work until you get some power in it." She cocked her head to the side. "I've been looking through some technopagan sites on the web, that, um," she glanced at Giles as she continued hurriedly, "a friend told me about. Supposedly there's all sorts of ways you can use magic to help with stuff like this." Then she winced, "Not that I know any of it, not really. I mean, I've read about some of it, but it sounds like a lotta that sort of stuff you have to figure out on your own. Other technopagans will help, sometimes, but the anonymity of the Internet makes it a little hard for a newbie to gain anyone's trust too quickly." *(3)

*BEEP*

"So should I just run h—"

"If I may interrupt," Giles smiled as all three teenagers stared at him in clear surprise as he held up a power cord. "Might this be of use?"

Willow blinked, but then plucked the phone out of Buffy's unresisting hand and moved over to where the Watcher was standing. Looking at the part that should plug into the phone, she blinked again. "Yeah, actually. Why do you—"

*BEEP*

"The Council equips all field-Watchers with a great deal of equipment that might be of use in an emergency." Giles shook his head as Willow took the phone from him and plugged it into a nearby outlet and then into the phone, shaking his head as the little device made a little noise in response as she set it down on the countertop, which was right next to the plug. "I, of course, have never needed to use it. But," he shrugged, "there you have it."

After a moment of silence, Buffy sighed. "OK, so Faith and I'll do a quick patrol before turning in." she frowned at where her phone was innocently sitting on Giles' side table. "Giles, I'll try to stop by in the morning, but—"

"Should you forget or be deterred I shall, of course, return your phone to you," her Watcher assured her kindly, the warm smile on his face fortunately keeping her from feeling like she was being patronized.

"OK, thanks," Buffy nodded, before raising an eyebrow at her redheaded friend. "We'll walk you home on the way, Wills. How'd you get here anyway?"

**_

* * *

_****_Giles' Apartment, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997_**

Faith waited a moment after her first knock sounded through the watcher's door, then she rapped her knuckles lightly against it again, listening to the sound echo through the door as she did so.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

For a slayer, at least, knocking was yet another thing they had to be careful about. She and B had to be careful about doors, handshakes...and the list went on. But the alternatives to _not _being careful were things like broken hands—of whoever was unfortunate enough to be shaking with them—and broken doors, so they really tried.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

When still no answer came, the brunette glanced towards the parking are to confirm tat the Watcher's midlife-crisis car was, in fact, there. Then she looked towards the nearby window, where light from inside the apartment was shining through into the darkening twilight.

She didn't try to resist the frown that found its way across her face as she knocked a fourth time.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

"Yo, G-man! You in there?"

Several long seconds of silence were all she received in response. Not that she was expecting an invite or anything from someone who was born and raised to Watch, but she would've liked something other than silence. If only to sooth the unease that was rolling around in her gut.

After a few more moments of indecision, the slayer reached for the doorknob and twisted it open, only a little—unhappily—surprised when she was met with no resistance.

The door wasn't locked. And Giles _always_ locked his door when he was out.

Once the door was free to do so, Faith gave it a gentle nudge to swing the rest of the way open while she stepped cautiously into the room. "Giles?" she called, wincing slightly as the fear she was feeling found its way into her voice. "You here?"

It was only after she'd made a few more steps into the room that her inner slayer seemed to jerk at something, just as she noticed a faint and unpleasant, but unfortunately familiar, coppery smell in the air.

Taking a few more steps forward, the first thing she saw was the chest Giles had them close the glove in. It was open, and its shape was deformed, which made her realize she could sense more of that dark magic all around the room.

But the second thing she noticed, as she looked nervously around, was the crumpled form on the floor by the couch.

"_Giles!_"

When she looked back on it, she wouldn't be able to remember how she'd crossed the room. Had she leapt over the couch or darted around? All she knew was that she saw the watcher's body, lying face-down on the ground, and then she was suddenly kneeling beside him.

She gently rolled him over, resting his head carefully on a pillow that—it was usually on the couch but—happened to be on the floor nearby, only to gasp as the hand she'd carefully moved his head with came away bloody. "G-Giles?"

Later she wouldn't be able to say what made her zone out, but suddenly her mind was months back. Before she'd come to Sunnydale. When Di was still alive, though just barely.

_At that point in her life Professor Diane Dormer had been the only one who'd ever believed in her. The only one who'd ever believed she was special. And she'd firmly insisted it wasn't just because she was Chosen. That she was Chosen because she was special, not the other way around. It'd been one of her favorite things to hear from the watcher who'd been ten times the maternal figure her own mother had never managed to fit._

_And Kakistos had taken that from her. _

_Faith would always remember the terror she'd felt flooding her veins as she'd run through the catacombs of the Master Vampire's mansion in the swamps. Fighting off alligators, fledglings and regular minions as she followed her watcher's shrieks of pain and Kakistos' horrible laughter. _

_Finally she'd managed to catch up to the bastard, had found herself in a huge open area of the catacombs, where a massive stone was topped by an altar, which was topped by a throne of massive skeletons. _

_That'd been the first time she'd seen the monster, as she'd been fighting too many other vamps when he'd grabbed Diane and started the chase through his mansion and down into the catacombs. _

_He'd been sitting there, on a disgusting throne of death. He was like an animal with the hideous face of a vampire, but somehow he'd changed over the centuries of his existence. He'd become more animal-like then any vampire she'd seen in person or in the books Di had pushed towards her. His hands had become hard and thick, like hoofs. But he was still able to hold her watcher hostage in them._

_She was propped up in his lap, facing me, the fine clothes she favored now in tatters. Worse, her body was mangled and bloody, with bite marks all up and down her from. Clearly at least half-drained, but still alive, and her eyes were wide with terror that shone through her pain._

_"Faith," she couldn't speak above a whisper as blood bubbled out of her mouth, "Run! Don't—"_

_But suddenly he ended it, slamming one of his sharp, massive hoofs down to rip through her stomach, impaling her before he tore her open and then in two._

_And she was gone.*_ (4)

* * *

**_Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997_**

Charlie shifted uncomfortably for the third time in the last ten minutes. Try as he might, he just couldn't seem to find that peaceful state Madam Ward had taught him to reach for. Regular meditation had greatly helped both he and Annie with their new abilities, making it much easier to both use their empathy _and_ understand it. It also made learning and understanding magic feasible, which was why it was the first thing she insisted on teaching him.

According to the very old wicca, Charlie was apparently a natural at meditation. Annie had already been instructed in it by both her Watchers, though she hadn't been as loyal about regular practice as she undoubtedly should've been. But Charlie had never even tried it before, and he still managed to find 'inner peace', as Madam Ward dubbed it, in their first session together not too long ago. It'd honestly surprised him, since he'd seen the world in a never-ending intake of numbers and patterns all his life, so it was a little strange that he was now able to switch them on and off at will. Madam Ward had theorized that Sineya and his unusually strong—and still growing—bond with Annie might have something to do with his ease with this newfound talent, but she couldn't be sure.

Still, tonight that clear calmness that he was supposed to attain before bed every night, and normally had little difficulty achieving, just would _not_ come.

The genius finally gave up, releasing a disgruntled sigh as he opened his eyes and unfolded his legs from the yoga-based position he'd been sitting in to set his feet on the floor. He gave his legs a moment to adjust to the change, then pushed himself off his bed and moved over to his computer chair in a few quick steps. He tapped a key on the keyboard as he sat down, dismissing the screensaver. As the computer came to life his eyes fell on his cell phone, which was also sitting on the desk, plugged into a nearby outlet to charge for the night.

Charlie blinked as he realized that he suddenly felt worried and afraid. Much more so then the normal worry that haunted him whenever he knew Annie was patrolling. Which didn't make sense.

They'd managed to find the glove the night before and left it in Dr. Giles safekeeping. He knew that, because Annie had called from her home phone in the late morning, just to chat, but mainly because she was worried that he might need to talk to her and not be able to since her cell phone was at Dr. Giles' house.

Honestly, he didn't think he was all that helpless. But he knew better then to say as much to Annie. At best, she'd be angry and defensive at the perceived reprimand for caring about him, at worst she'd be hurt. Neither of which were feelings he wanted to evoke.

But nonetheless, this fear seemed to only be growing.

More importantly the worry and fear felt strange. It didn't _feel_ like _Annie_.

Or Sineya.

Or anyone nearby he might be sensing.

His parents were sleeping, untroubled by dreams. Lily was sleeping, only a little fretfully, which he'd noticed seemed to be her norm. Especially when she fell asleep while watching TV late at night, though it wasn't actually that late. The Fletchers were away on vacation in Miami or Malabo or some other place like that. The McKinnon's were still the happiest people he knew—since he'd never sensed anything less than total contentedness from them—and they were sleeping, too.

And he didn't really know any of the other neighbors well enough for his empathy to connect with them, as most of the other families he'd known here growing up had moved away sometime since then, and he'd never felt like making the effort to get to know them. His mother also hadn't mentioned any of the neighbors having any troubles, financial or otherwise, so it wasn't something like that.

Unlike Sunnydale, Pasadena had always felt like a generally safe, content area. The one time he was attacked by vampires and the few times bullies had braved his brother's wrath being the rare exceptions to the rule. Going downtown could be much more unnerving, but even though he was attacked by vampires in this very house it'd just never had the general aura of _danger_ that Sunnydale teemed with, though even that, he'd found, was significantly muted by Annie's presence when he visited.

But considering all that, _what_ was he picking up all this worry and fear from?

'_Maybe Annie knows?_' he thought, as he finally gave in and picked up his cell, flipping it open to hit speed dial #2.

He remembered the possibility that Annie might not have her phone with her on the second ring, but someone picked up on the third.

"_H-Hello?_"

Charlie blinked. The shaky voice wasn't Annie's. But it was still familiar enough that it took him only a moment to place it. "Faith?"

"_Yeah, who's..._" the younger Slayer trailed off into a long pause, and then she asked, "_Charlie?_"

"Yeah, hi, Faith," the genius replied quickly, noting in the back of his mind that he was glad that his voice sounded a lot calmer than he felt at the moment. He was already a bit worried himself when he started the call, and having a frightened Faith answer him didn't make him feel better. "Is everything all right?"

"_No! Giles, he...h-he's..._"

Charlie felt his frown deepening, but took a deep breath before cutting in, hoping said frown wouldn't find its way into his voice. "What happened to Dr. Giles, Faith?"

"_H-He's not moving! Th-There's blood..._"

A dozen different scenarios flashed through his mind at that, but Charlie shook them off to ask, "Is he still alive?"

"_A-Alive?_"

He was pretty sure the brunette was shaking her head here, and equally sure she was in something resembling shock, which made some degree of sense considering what happened to her last watcher right in front of her.

"_N—I-I don't know. I don't know._"

Charlie closed his eyes as he continued slowly, "Is he breathing?"

"_I-I don—_"

"Faith, I know you're scared," he cut her off, keeping his voice as gentle as he could, "I'm scared, too. But we need to help Dr. Giles. OK?"

"_Help? H-He was like this when I got here!_" Faith suddenly started babbling, "_He didn't come to the clearing and I said I'd go get him. And he w-wouldn't wake up! He won't wake up! He's bleeding a-and I don't know what happened to him and Buffy's gonna be so angry and I c-can't—_"

"You _can_ help him, Faith." Charlie finally cut in again, even as his brilliant brain struggled to process all the babble it'd just taken in.

"_But I d-don't even know what hurt him! How—_"

"That doesn't matter. He doesn't need you to slay right now, Faith. He needs to get to a hospital."

Faith was silent for a second, before asking, "_You want me to carry him to the hospital?_"

Charlie grimaced, closing his eyes again. Yup, definitely in shock. Unfortunately the last time he'd taken a first aid class was several years ago, and the instructor has mostly emphasized calling for professional help in an emergency then anything you could actually do yourself. But he was pretty sure the best thing he could really do was get Giles the help he needed, which would hopefully have the dual affect of helping the wounded watcher and calming the young slayer down. "No, Faith. Giles has a phone, doesn't he?"

"_Yeah, but wh—_"

"Dial 911. Call for an ambulance. I'll stay—" He stopped as a loud noise suddenly cut him off, frowning before the dial tone and operator came on, to tell him his call had been dropped.

**_

* * *

_**

A Clearing in Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997

Willow frowned, sighing as she glanced around the darkening clearing again. Except for her and the two slayers, it'd clearly been deserted for quite a while before Post had chosen it to destroy the glove in. But it wasn't the clearing itself that was bothering her. No, it was the fact that Giles and Post hadn't shown up when they were supposed to and now Faith, who'd run off to 'fetch G-Man and Poppins'—Buffy's words, not Willow's—wasn't back. And it wouldn't take Willow more then ten minutes to get to Giles apartment from here. So half-an-hour was worrisome.

"I mean, it's perfect for the set-up you guys have going. It's a really powerful RDBMS* and probably something that could be really, really useful for the kind of research he'd be doing as a mathematician. But how did he even _get_ version _Filemaker 4.0v1_*? It _just_ came out and he gave it away like-like, I don't know, something that wasn't really cool! I know he's a pretty high-end mathematician even though he's only a year older than us—which is really cool, by the way—" (5) (6)

Neither Slayer had mentioned the Watcher's tardiness until well after the sun had set. Though both had probably been looking forward to teasing the usually timely Giles to no end.

"—Have you used any of the new programming that's supposed to be in it? I mean, I know the plug-in architecture probably doesn't mean much to you, 'cause you probably don't do much—or, um, any—programming yourself, but—"

But when almost half-an-hour had passed and the clearing was darkening well past what one might consider 'twilight', and into true night, Faith had spoken up. Had volunteered to go 'fetch' the errant pair, swinging down from the rather high tree limb she'd settled herself in some time before, before gesturing to the two older teens as she made her way across the clearing towards Giles' apartment, telling them that they needed to talk just before she disappeared.

"—the things you can do with it are supposed to be really, really cool. And Dr. Eppes' _must_ have used the new feature to create the program you use to send him your reports in—"

Willow had remembered frowning deeply as the two slayers had exchanged looks, sensing a silent conversation she wasn't part of seeming to take place as Faith had cocked her head to the side, an eyebrow raised, and then Buffy had nodded. Then Faith had taken off at a pace that most profession runners would be proud of, though it was one that wouldn't even wind the slayer.

"—Do you know if, maybe, he's consulted for Claris Corporation? Cause that's the only way I can think of that he might've gotten access to the program so early. I mean, if they're just working out of the kinks and bugs in the new program now, maybe he got a copy to try out himself? Of course—"

Seeing the serious look in Buffy's eyes, Willow had immediately started talking about everything and nothing. A large part of her afraid she knew exactly what Buffy wanted to talk to her about, and wanting to avoid it at all costs. Not that she wasn't honestly interested in the computer program Charlie had installed and set-up on Buffy's laptop for her to send him reports on Slaying, but it wasn't something she'd usually try talking to Buffy about. Oz, yeah. But he was into the computer stuff just like she was. Buffy and Xander really weren't. The only times Willow had seen either of them actually use computers before Buffy met Charlie was only in computer class. Xander liked to play solitaire and Buffy had liked looking at the latest fashions online, but any time they'd really needed to use technology it'd fallen to Willow to get what they needed.

"—if that's the case, you probably shouldn't show the program to too many people since he probably wasn't supposed to give it to you. Which was really, really sweet of him. Though the laptop itself is pretty high-end, too. So maybe he's consulted for Apple Computer as a whole? That'd be really, really neat! Do you think he might be willing to let me take a look at the program—"

Personally, even she was kind of impressed that she'd managed to keep babbling, pretty-much non-stop for almost an half-an-hour. That was a record even for her. Sure, she didn't really have any idea what she was talking about before she said it, her mouth had taken over completely. But she'd effectively commandeered command of the conversation and kept it for a considerable length of time.

"—I'd just like to know how he's set up the storage architecture and I could probably improve the firewalls that he's setup for your computer as a whole. Since Dr. Eppes said he's not a hacker or anything like that. So he might not know all the ins and outs that hackers might use. And some of the technopagans I've been talking to online have shown me some neat things you can do with magic and computers that'd really help any firew—"

"You know I have almost no idea what you're talking about, don't you?"

Willow stopped, cheeks reddening as her friend's question sank in. The gig was up. "Uh, yeah... Sorry."

Buffy shook her head. "So?"

Willow winced, "What'd you think is keeping them?"

"Giles and Faith? Hopefully something research-related. Post?" The slayer shrugged. "Don't really care. But that's not what I was asking about."

Willow winced again before she could think to stop herself, but this time remained silent.

"Come on, Wills. What's the sitch?"

"The Lagos demon wants the glove to—" Her obvious attempt to divert the conversation again wasn't allowed, as she was again interrupted.

"With you and Xander."

"Oh. Um—"

"Actually, hold that thought," Buffy interrupted her yet again, before darting across the clearing just as a demon suddenly stormed in from the opposite side.

Willow knew she really shouldn't have been _grateful_ for the demons arrive, but one really couldn't control their feelings, could they? And the momentary reprieve _was_ appreciated.

Instead of meeting the demon head on halfway across the clearing, Buffy darted to the side and kicked around with one leg to sweep its feet out from under it, sending it crashing to the floor. It just barely managed to roll out of the way when she swung the staff she was carrying at his head, smashing it into the ground instead. She pulled back as he climbed to his feet.

It was always kinda neat to watch Buffy wipe the floor with demons that had no business trying to fight her. It was, of course, terrifying to watch her fight the ones that were good enough to hold their own against her. But the ones that really couldn't and were clearly on their way to meet their maker were fun to watch.

With all the hype the ex-watcher had put into the problem this Lago-guy was supposed to be, though, it was kind of surprising. Cause, axe versus staff, you'd think he'd at least be able to hold his own, but he barely seem to know what to do with the weapon in his massive hands when facing the slayer.

When Lagos swung the axe at her head, Buffy merely dropped down again to knock his feet out from under him—and surprisingly he hadn't learned the first time, cause he went down just as easily—and this time she also caught his axe with the staff and sent it flying away.

Seeing Buffy was then in between where Lagos had fallen and where she'd sent his axe, Willow helpfully ran around the clearing to grab the weapon. Figuring keeping the axe away from him, no matter how little skill he had, could only be a good idea.

Though she needn't have bothered. Since this time Buffy managed to slam her staff into his head. Several times. Till his head kinda wasn't the right shape anymore. And he was obviously very dead. Even though his limbs were still jerking around, but that seemed to be mostly in response to each time she slammed the staff into what was left of his head.

"Uh, Buff?" Willow asked after her friend had nailed the monsters head a tenth time.

Finally the slayer stopped, and took a step back at the sight that was presented to her. "Okay, I know Giles didn't want us carrying weapons made of metal around when were bringing the glove out to burn it up, cause there was a chance that someone might try to use it against us..." She shook her head. "But I _really_ prefer decapitation. Or staking. Cause, ewe."

"Yeah," Willow agreed with a nod, before shaking her head again. "But why'd you hit 'im so many times? I mean, his head was practically flat after the fourth hit, so..."

Buffy shook her head. "His brain's not in his head."

Willow blinked, "What?"

"He's a Lagos demon. Brain's in his neck. That's why decapitation is better with most demons. No matter what, it tends to kill 'em. Well, most of 'em. There's a few it's a really bad idea with."

That made the redhead blink again, but incited her nearly inexhaustible curiosity. "Like the Hydra*?" (7)

"Huh?"

"The mythological creature Hercules fought? When he cut off its head, more heads grew back?"

"Oh. Yeah. Like that." Buffy shrugged, grimacing as she looked down at the end of her staff, which was covered in demon blood. "'Cept Giles promised that there aren't any demons like that still around."

"There aren't? Wait, was Hercules real? Are the Greek gods and the Egyptian—"

"You _did_ hear Giles talking about all the groups of gods that lost interest in our world a long time ago, right?"

Willow frowned, thinking back on it. "Uh, I think so." She shook her head. "Was I looking for something—"

"Oh yeah, you were actually researching the glove, I think. I was just listening to some of what Giles said."

"Some of what he said?" Willow raised an eyebrow. Though, in reality, 'some' was much better than the Slayer used to be when it came to anything historical. Still, for the most part, all she wanted to know was what she had to watch out for when fighting something and how to kill it. Which was understandable, since that was really her job.

"Well, yah." Buffy shrugged, "I usually only understand half of what he says anyway. So I hear all of it, but most of the historical stuff isn't that important to me." Then she grimaced, "But it's something Charlie'd want to know, and I haven't had any luck on getting Giles to send him the information that I don't want to listen to—probably because he thinks it'll make me really listen if I have to report all of it back to Charlie myself."

Willow nodded, "But Hercules was real?"

Buffy blinked, "I don't know. You should—"

"Ask Giles?"

"Yup. All he told me was the really big, pure demons aren't around anymore because they were driven out. That the ones that made it into modern myth—"

"_Modern_ myth?" Willow repeated, shaking her head. "Most of the Greek myths are thousands of years old."

Buffy shrugged again. "And some of the Slayer myths and the demonic stuff the Council keeps track of are millions of years old, Will. I don't think two or three thousand years mean too much to the Council."

"Oh." Willow blinked, nodding slightly. "I guess that makes sense. But all of the big demons are gone?"

"Yeah. Giles said all of them were 'driven out when humanity inherited the Earth, or something like that.' That most of the ones you hear about in popular myth are actually variations of much older myths, of demons that Slayers probably took care of. But some of the gods did keep a few around as guards."

"Like Hades kept the Hydra as a guardian to that entrance to the Underworld?"

"Yeah. But most of 'em never actually brought the demons into our world, cause they could cause too many problems there. So it didn't really live in this dimension, it woulda been stuck in the place between our dimension and the Underworld, since Hades probably wouldn't want it to enter either world."

"But Hercules found it because it was terrorizing nearby villages."

Buffy shrugged yet again. "Maybe he did. Or maybe that part was added to the story to make it sound more heroic. I mean, if a major demon was terrorizing humans—"

"A Slayer would've been sent to handle it," Willow interrupted, nodding slowly in understanding. "And you're right. It sounds better that he went to kill a monster that was terrorizing poor villagers than that he went to kill a guardian to a Hellmouth." Then she shook her had. "That's, um. Kinda neat, I guess." But again she frowned as something else occurred to her. "But we haven't fought a Lagos before, how'd you know it's brain wasn't in its head? And why'd smashing its head in kill it if its brain's not there?"

"I smashed its neck up a lot, too, Wil. And I don't know," Buffy shrugged, grimacing as her efforts to wipe the demon blood off the staff by rubbing the gory end in the dirt prove unsuccessful, only making it look worse. "I just knew."

That didn't make her frown fade, "But—"

Buffy sighed, "Some things about Slaying just come to me. Yeah, I have to work at it to become any good, but I've never really had trouble staking a vamp. I don't have trouble with new weapons. And some demons, even ones I've never seen before, I just know how to kill. I know what their weaknesses are, even if I don't know what they're called or how I know what I know." She shook her head again as she finished. "I guess it might be knowledge from Si—past slayers, you know? That kinda makes sense, right?"

After a moment of thought, Willow nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does."

"Anyway, you were saying?"

Willow blinked, "Huh?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Xander. You. The sitch. _Now_."

"Oh..." Willow winced, and all she could think was, '_Oh, crap._'

* * *

**_Outside Lily's House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997_**

Charlie grimaced as the distinct sound of Lily falling off her couch after being waken from a deep sleep—by his knock on her front door—came clearly through said door.

He'd known that even though several of her lights were on and the TV in the living room was, too, that didn't mean the over-worked young woman was actually awake. No, this wasn't the first time Lily had fallen asleep while watching TV after a long day, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But he knew something was happening in Sunnydale, and since his call with Faith had been cut short and he hadn't been able to get a hold of her again, he didn't know what to do.

He'd thought of calling the Watcher's home phone, only to discover he didn't know the number. Which also was not listed. And he didn't want to call Annie's home phone as it was likely that the only thing that could come from that is Joyce Summers would be awake and pacing with just as much worry as he was. Maybe more.

Still, he felt a little bad as he listened to—and felt—Lily's sleepy grumbles as she shuffled around inside, struggling to wake up.

Thinking something to focus on might help her, Charlie started to knock again.

*KNOCK*

Only to stop immediately after the first knock, not letting his clenched fist hit the wood a second time as a sharp spike of irritation from inside the house warned him that focusing her wrath on him might be stupid. But then again, he kind of deserved it since he was waking her up from her well-earned rest, regardless of his reasonable reason.

After several more seconds of strained silence, the door finally swung open.

"Charlie?" the blonde asked softly, still sounding and looking more than a little drowsy, as she rubbed her eyes before continuing. "What are you doing here?"

Charlie very deliberately kept his eyes focuses on her over-tired face, knowing that any attention to the state of total disarray her hair and clothes were in would only offend her. "I'm sorry to wake you, Lily. But I need your help."

Lily stifled a yawn even as she took a step back to nod him in, the worry he'd sensed growing in her from the second she opened the door visible in her eyes. She closed the door behind him as she asked, "Can I make some tea?"

Charlie shook his head. "I don't know how much time—something's happened in Sunnydale." He tried not to wince as Lily's own alarm joined his own worry thanks to his empathetic senses, despite the fact that the slightly older woman visibly controlled herself very well.

"Is Buffy—"

"I don't know. Can you drive—"

Lily cut him off, "I would, Charlie. You know I would. But my car's in the shop. Bob gave me a ride home." She shook her head. "I guess I could try calling him, but—"

"But he's supervising the Watch's patrol tonight." Charlie sighed, trying to think of something—_anything_—else he could do. But he came up empty. "I have to help somehow, Lily." He insisted, trying to think of some way to explain why. But then he stopped as he noticed the speculative look that'd come across her face as he literally _felt_ her think of something.

The blonde glanced behind her, at the nearby desk that he knew she kept some of her equipment for meditation and minor witchcraft.

"Lily?"

Lily nodded slowly. "I started experimenting with astral projection a little while back, I'm not very good at it, but..." she shook her head as she met Charlie's eyes again. "Since you and Buffy are psychically connected, maybe—"

"I should be able to find out what's going on through astral projection?" Charlie finished, nodding in agreement. "Yeah. That should work. Let's—"

"It's not easy, Charlie. I mean, I can barely project myself out of my body right now. I think the bond will definitely help you, but—"

"I have to do _something_, Lily."

After several long seconds of silence, the blonde nodded again very slowly. "OK. This'll just take me a minute to set up." She waved over to the center of the living room, where a thick rug had been placed specifically for meditation. "You should meditate for a bit, try to clear your head."

"Can I help you—"

"No. Meditate." Lily nudged him gently towards the rug. "If you're not able to focus, you won't be able to project yourself, even with the bond and the ancient spirit helping you." At that, she stopped. "What does—"

"Sineya's not here." Charlie shook his head. "I think she's focused her attention on Annie right now. She tends to do that: focus on whoever needs help the most."

Lily sighed, but nodded. "I guess that makes sense." She sighed again. "But try to get her attention if you can. She'll—"

"No. I'm not taking her help away from Annie if I can help it," Charlie interrupted firmly.

Lily grimaced, but nodded again. "OK, well. Meditate then, facing northwest."

Charlie nodded, carefully sitting himself down in the pose Madam Ward had insisted he get used to using for mediation—something about it apparently kept his body relaxed but didn't let anything fall asleep either—so he tried to use it. Hopefully it wouldn't take him too long to get used to it. He'd never been especially flexible, but hadn't been particularly inflexible either.

He watched as Lily slowly made her way around him in a deosil* direction, laying a long white cord down on the ground as she mumbled a blessing under her breath as she went. She sent him a small glare as she then moved to the box of crystals she'd brought out, and he shook himself out of his slightly dazed observations. (8)

As Lily started setting up small crystals around him, he closed his eyes and carefully regulated his breathing, trying to focus his attention on each breath as it entered his body and then rushed back out. Gradually, he managed to slow it down, silently counting out each breath as he'd been taught. Though the emotions that'd been troubling him all evening were still there, but the increasingly practiced activity definitely helped.

"Charlie?"

Lily's voice called him back out again a short time later, and he opened his eyes, only to blink several times as took in the sight she'd set up around him.

At least a dozen small, clear crystals were set up in a circle around him, each emitting a soft white glow that somehow stretched itself so that each crystal's light was touching each of the two nearest to it, all of them encircling him in white light. Four larger crystals, each a different color, were also set up around him. It took him a moment of looking around to realize each was set in specific directions from him. A large green crystal was set a few feet north of him, just outside of the circle formed by the white cord. To the west Lily'd placed a large blue crystal. Charlie had to turn his head a little to the right to see the yellow crystal to the east, and back around, though not quite as far to the left to the see the red crystal to the south. All four were a little larger than his fist and also glowing, though their glow seemed more natural, in that it stayed within the immediate vicinity of the gem that was emitting it. (9)

"Charlie? Are you ready?"

Charlie nodded slowly, "I think I'm ready."

"Are you sure—"

"No," he cut the understandably nervous witch-in-training off. "But I need to do this, Lily."

The blonde sighed, but then nodded her head in understanding. "OK. Remember, you have to keep checking your connection to your body. You _can't_ stretch yourself too thin. If you become lost while in your astral form and remain away from your body too long—"

"I'll die. I know."

Lily grimaced, shaking her head. "Charlie, maybe we should try to call the elders. I'm really not qualified t—"

"_Please_, Lily." Charlie held his friend's gaze for several long seconds before she finally relented, yet again.

"OK..." Lily sighed. "S-Since you haven't done this before we'll have to use a beginner's chant to get you started, and the bond should pull you to Annie."

Charlie nodded. He knew they really shouldn't be doing this, but he _needed_ to help and as Lily's car was in the shop, this was really the best they could do. If they needed to go to Sunnydale to help, they would. They'd take one of his parents' cars. But as that road had plenty of blocks—for one thing, needing to explain _why_ they needed the car so suddenly—they didn't want to venture there without reason. Which Lily didn't think they had just yet.

"R-Remember, you have to focus on the entire chant for it to effectively guide you."

"Right," Charlie nodded, taking a deep breath that flooded his senses with the subtle incense Lily'd lit a little while before, then started reading the chant she'd chosen for him, carefully speaking the ancient words out loud. "Ego sum procul pacis. Ego sum universa. Ego peto scientia. Ego transporto meus phasmatis absentis—"* (10)

And suddenly everything around him—from the incense-weighted air and carefully placed crystals to the lights of the streetlights outside—blurred.

Charlie tried to close his eyes, hoping to stop the confusing onslaught of imagery or at least the painful pressure that had suddenly built up behind his eyes. Physically, he was sure he felt his eyes close, but the muddled impressions kept coming and the pressure kept building and he couldn't stop the cry of pain that sprang from his throat.

Then, just as suddenly as it all started, the chaos stopped and the genius was left in darkness with Annie's warm concern washing over him.

"**_Charlie?_**" Annie's startled voice echoed through his mind.

"_Wha—Buffy, there's nothing there._" Willow's equally startled reply seemed much more distant, but also echoed.

"**_What are you talking about? He's right—Wait. Charlie, why can I see through you?!_**" the sheer terror in the eldest slayer's question rang across their bond, her words echoing behind it, and finally gave him the strength to try to look around.

"_Buffy, there's nothing th—_"

"**_He's right there, Willow. Floating. And see-through-able. You better not be a ghost, Charlie._**"

It took a surprising amount of effort to direct his gaze at all, but when he did look down he found both ladies were several feet below him, Willow looking around in bewilderment as Annie's stared up at him, fear clear in her gaze. The corpse of some kind of fairly large demon on the ground behind them was probably responsible for the damages he could see in the clearing around him, but neither lady was hurt so he didn't really care.

"**_Annie, are you OK?_**"

"**_Of course I'm not OK, you idiot! How'd you become a ghost?!_**" Buffy demanded, her eyes noticeably bright.

"**_I'm not—_**" Charlie stopped as he finally managed to see himself, or actually, didn't. Because when he looked where his legs should be, he found nothing. What his present form consisted of seemed to end at his waist, and was as a whole blurred at the edges and almost transparent.

"**_Charlie?_**" Annie's nervous inquiry brought him back to the present.

Returning his 'gaze' to hers, Charlie finally managed a reply. "**_I'm not a ghost. I'm, um. I'm projecting myself. Astrally._**"

"**_Oh._**" Buffy's confused blink was endearingly familiar, and somehow made him feel a little better. A little more sure of himself as she turned to Willow. "**_He says he's projecting himself. That he's astral?_**"

"**_I needed to see you,_**" Charlie told her. "**_I was worried._**"

"_But that doesn't make any sense,_" Willow complained, shaking her head. "_How come you can't see him and I can't?_"

**_The Clearing, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997_**

Buffy shifted, a little uncomfortable with the area Willow's questions could take them into, but didn't let her gaze waver from where limbless and see-through Charlie was hovering a few feet over her head. "He's there, Wills."

"But I don't think astral projection—" Willow's wide eyes were darting around the air above them. "I don't think people can see astral forms. And it's supposed to be really hard. Giles always gets really tetchy whenever I ask about trying it."

"It's really hard?" Buffy repeated, her already present frown deepening as she eyed her barely-visible friend worriedly. "Charlie is—are you OK? Why—?"

"**_Something's wrong._**" Her brilliant, not-quite-boyfriend cut in, his words not seeming to come from his immobile mouth, but instead echoing through her mind. "**_Can't you feel it?_**"

Buffy shook her head, frowning up at him. "You shouldn't—"

Charlie interrupted again, and she could feel his frustration along their bond. "**_You need to help Faith! And—_**"

"Faith? What's wrong with Faith?" Buffy demanded, glancing rapidly in the direction the younger slayer had gone quite a while before to retrieve their missing-watcher, before looking up at her incorporeal friend again.

Charlie's eyes were still locked with hers, but she got the feeling he wasn't actually looking at her as he asked, "**_Is that the Lagos-demon you were worried about?_**"

Apparently he could see the cooling corpse on the ground without looking around, though she noticed off-handedly that he seemed to be a little closer than before. "Yeah, that's him." She shook her head. "He was kinda pathetic, really. Don't know why Post was so worried about him. But what happened to Faith? And how—"

"**_Someone attacked Giles. He needs—_**" Charlie stopped abruptly, and Buffy gasped as he suddenly disappeared.

"Charlie?!" Her panicked call rang through the clearing even as she tried to focus on his distant presence.

"What? What happened?" Willow demanded, but another demand stole the slayer's attention before she could respond.

"**_—Help. He needs to get to the hospital._**" Charlie finished, appearing just as suddenly as he'd vanished a moment before.

"What?" Buffy blinked, that spike of sheer terror his disappearance had inspired still dominating her mind as she noticed he was almost a foot lower than before.

"**_You need to help Giles!_**" Charlie insisted, "**_And Faith. Sh—_**"

And suddenly he was gone again.

Buffy looked around, reaching out with her senses as she tried to find her friend. To no avail. But he'd given her a task to focus on before she went crazy trying to find him, so complete that task she would. Though she probably wouldn't have been able to focus on that all if a reassuring pulse from Sineya sent her the silent message that she'd look after Charlie.

"Buffy, what's—"

"Faith and Giles are in trouble," Buffy cut her off, turning towards Giles apartment complex. "Come on!" She forced herself to keep her pace down to a swift jog that Willow could keep up with. Even with the fates of three dear friends troubling her, she couldn't abandon another friend to the dangers in Sunnydale's streets.

**_Giles' Apartment, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997_**

Charlie was sure that the weird compression of chaos that motion in astral form became would make him sick if his mind wasn't separate from his body as he experienced it. As it was, it took him a long second of staring to figure out where he was when he suddenly wasn't in the clearing anymore. But at least this time he was closer to the ground, so it was easier to turn his attention to the trembling form that was kneeling next to the apartment's owner, staring at the blood that was slowly seeping into the carpet from the wound on the top of his head. A look at the crunched remains of Annie's cell phone in the brunette's still clenched right-hand told him what had ended their earlier conversation.

"**_Faith!_**" he called, but the shaking slayer didn't seem to hear him, as her dark eyes remained down while tears slid slowly down her cheeks. "**_Faith!_**" he tried again, but she clearly couldn't hear him anymore than Willow could in the clearing.

But that didn't make sense. If Faith couldn't hear him at all, why could he sense her terror/pain so very clearly? Annie was definitely worried now, too, but it was definitely Faith's emotional state that had kept him awake and called him here.

"_No..._"

Charlie barely heard the brunette's muttered denial, which came to him a little more clearly than Willow's questions of Annie had, but nowhere near as well as Annie herself had in the clearing.

"_No. No Di'. Di'._"

"**_Die?_**" The genius wondered, as bewildered as he was worried. Yes, Dr. Giles didn't look good—that's why he wanted her to call an ambulance—but he wasn't dead or dying.

"_I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Di'._"

"**_Oh,_**" Charlie could've hit himself as he suddenly remembered the young slayer's first watcher. "**_Diane Dormer?_**" He was pretty sure that had to be who the girl was talking about. But then again, he'd only heard Annie mentioned the late Watcher's name once or twice. Still, even with this knowledge he was worried. If she couldn't hear him, how was he supposed to help her?

"**_Touch. Feel._**"

Had he been capable of physically jumping, he would have. Charlie was certainly startled enough as a young black woman—who was also transparent, like him—suddenly appeared beside him.

As it was, he could only stare, until her frown—and the burst of irritation it sent along the bond she was part of—made him ask, "**_What?_**"

"**_You touch._**" Sineya told him, before waving a barely visible hand—though it pointed out that unlike him her spiritual form was apparently whole—towards Faith. "**_She feel._**"

Charlie really fond his inability to move—especially since she clearly _could_—disconcerting, but he tried to ignore it and focus on the task at hand. "**_Faith can feel me?_**"

The ancient, but ever-young spirit didn't respond.

Charlie wanted to roll his eyes or shake his head, but tried to ignore the unfulfilled habit of expression yet again. "**_How do I touch her? I can't move._**"

He was fairly sure she was mocking him as she rolled her eyes, but that thought quickly left his mind as she reached forward, her hand plunging into where his limbless-chest was floating. It was very strange sight, but any thought he might've given beyond that realization, towards the sight itself or the possible reasons behind her actions, vanished as the horrible emotions he'd been feeling from Faith were suddenly three times more poignant, with a little bit of inexplicable bemusement mixed in. Which was just as quickly over powered by a burst of alarm as Faith all but flew to her feet.

"_Who's there?_" the slayer demanded, none of the alarm he could sense visible to him or in her voice. "_What are you?_" she continued, looking around, her figure tense. "_…Some kind of ghost?_"

"**_What want?_**" Sineya suddenly asked, and he saw that she was still staring at him.

"_What do you want?_" Faith echoed, making Charlie stare a little incredulously even as he forced a reply out.

"**_I—She needs to call for help._**"

"**_Help?_**" Sineya frowned towards Faith, before looking back at Charlie.

"_I don't know what you think you're gonna do here, but if you think you're gonna finish your buddy's job, think again!_" Faith called out again.

"**_Yes,_**" Charlie confirmed, though he was watching Faith with no small amount of worry now. And it was only then that the genius realized—through the flood of feelings still coming from Faith—that not only was Sineya's right hand still buried in his chest, her left was in Faith's, too. Though her left arm seemed to have stretched to an unnaturally long length, since Faith was more than twice as far away from the ancient spirit as Charlie was.

"**_Help for man?_**"

"_Help for Giles?_" Faith sounded a bit lost again as she blinked down at the downed watcher.

"**_She needs to call for help,_**" Charlie emphasized, struggling for a way to get the appropriate message through Sineya's understandable ignorance. Honestly, he didn't know how she understood as much English as she already had demonstrated. But, then again, maybe the active bond with two modern people helped in that regard.

"**_Call for help for man,_**" Sineya nodded as she repeated his request, nodding again as Faith echoed her.

"_Call for help?_" Faith blinked, then started looking around rapidly as understanding finally dawned. She spared the destroyed phone in her grasp a momentary glance before disregarding it, though she didn't set it down anywhere. After a long moment of looking, she dodged around the couch to reach the landline phone on a nearby table.

Charlie wanted to release a sigh of relief as he watched her dial in the three emergency numbers most six-year-olds knew. But, again, Sineya managed to distract him from his inability to physically express anything. This time, though, she was physically moving him: pulling him away from Faith and towards the nearby door.

"**_What—_**"

Sineya cut him off, speaking over his question and Faith's urgent phone call. "**_Need go._**"

"_I need an ambulance..._"

"**_But—_**"

"**_Need go. Now._**"

"_My friend needs help now!_"

Charlie wanted to blindly refuse, but he could sense Sineya's growing discomfort. Which meant she really had a reason for want him out of astral form. Even though he couldn't think of one at the moment. "**_Why?_**"

"**_Need body._**" Sineya insisted firmly. "**_Not spirit._**"

"_His body—someone hurt him!_"

"**_Sineya, I want to help!_**" Charlie tried to object as they neared the door. Though he could sense the ancient spirit's impatience, she apparently couldn't drag him along any faster than she was already. Which was about the speed one might be able to swim through molasses at.

Still, she seemed to respect his wishes more than her unhappy expression indicated, since she immediately stopped dragging him towards the door. "**_Have help._**" She pointed out, gesturing towards Faith's continuing phone call.

"_He needs help!_" Faith insisted into the phone.

"**_But—_**" Charlie stopped suddenly, more than a little bewildered by the irritated—but rapidly becoming frightened—expression on the ancient youth's face. "**_Why do I need to go—?_**"

He stopped as that overt, overwhelming sensation overtook his senses once again.

**_

* * *

_**

The Streets of Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997

Buffy grimaced as an ambulance passed them, headed in the same direction that she and Willow were. On one hand, it meant that if Giles needed medical help—which he probably did, if the ambulance was headed to his place—it'd be there. On the other, if she were by herself she'd know that already. Because she'd already be there.

"Buffy," Willow panted as she struggled to set the quickest pace her not-overly-athletic and all-too-human body could manage, "you don't have," another pant, "to wai—"

"I'm not leaving you, Will," Buffy cut in, sighing as she picked up on the worry and self-doubt that the redhead was radiating even as she struggled to keep her expression clear as she let Willow set as quick a pace as she could manage. "This is Sunnydale, and it's almost eleven. It's not safe."

"But—"

"Buffy! Everything alright?"

Buffy stopped abruptly, gently catching Willow by the shoulder as her friend stumbled, before turning towards her towards Xander's voice, a smile splitting her face as she saw all three of the other Scoobies sitting in Cordelia's car. "Hey guys, good timing. Will, tell them what's going on, OK?" She didn't even wait for Willow's affirmation, certain that the entirely reasonable order would be obeyed. Instead she immediately took off, running as fast as she could, which was only slightly slowed down by the two inch pumps she'd chosen to slay in this evening.

That slight decrease in speed was OK though. 'Cause she really needed the extra two inches these shoes gave her. And they looked great, too. It was really too bad that her super-powers couldn't extend themselves to protect her wardrobe, though. Buffy herself, with the great agility, balance and dexterity being a Slayer gave her, had no problem crossing any kind of terrain at whatever speed necessary in any shoes she wanted. Unlike most women, she also never suffered from any kind of problems that were commonly associated with beautiful footwear. It was a part of being Chosen that she greatly appreciated. But most of her shoes, hell most of her wardrobe in general, really took a beating when it came to the actual Slaying.

Dust, she could live with, even though it somehow worked its way into the weirdest places. Still, dust she could shake out. Heels that broke under the strain of over-usage could be fixed. But blood, slime, guts and goo were much more difficult to fix and impossible to ignore.

Buffy sighed as she saw Giles street up ahead. She knew full well that the only reason she was concentrating on her poor footwear and wardrobe was because she really didn't want to think about what she might find when she got to that apartment. She'd started sensing Faith's fear and anguish several blocks back. And they felt just like the same kind she remembered picking up when she was asking the younger Slayer about her previous Watcher, Which really wasn't a good sign.

And she was also getting really strange feelings from Charlie and Sineya over the bond. Like both were really close by, but not. Both were worried. Actually, Sineya felt scared, and that scared Buffy because it wasn't something she was used to sensing from the ancient spirit at all.

Astral projection was something like the spirit leaving the body, right?

Why the _hell_ would Charlie do that?!

Buffy shook her head again as she cut the corner and kept going down the street, grimacing again as she saw that the ambulance had, in fact, stopped in front of Giles's apartment building. She'd really already known they'd be there, but that didn't mean she had to like seeing it.

Of course, the police car that was there to didn't help either.

When she'd lived in LA, she'd never really had much of an opinion towards the police. More often then not, they were just there. That simple fact was something she'd appreciated in junior high when she'd somehow gotten separated from her classmates on a field trip and gotten hopelessly lost in a part of the city she'd never been in before. But that was the only time she really saw them, save when they were directing traffic or stopping speeding cars and writing tickets. Buffy, herself, had never even seen a crime scene or had any reason to go near a police station.

Before she'd become the Slayer, she hadn't really even noticed them. Afterwards she had, and had been a bit irritated that they didn't seem to do anything to deal with the vampires that preyed on the city's populace, but Merrick had pointed out that that was her job, unfortunately. But she'd started noticing them a lot more during the day, and while they were still just _there_ the part of her mind that the Slayer actually appreciated _why_ they were there, so Buffy herself had, too.

But here in Sunnydale, it was a very different story. There wasn't much crime in Sunnydale. What with the vampires and demons dealing out death on a fairly regular basis, the human populace was almost disturbingly sheep-like, and completely determined to ignore the supernatural activity. Meanwhile, most of the cops were just sheep with guns most of the time, while she was convinced some of them actually covered up everything supernatural that happened. Maybe they'd be more useful if there was more actual crime that wasn't somehow tied to the supernatural in Sunnydale, but there just wasn't. And it was the cops that had tried to arrest her and shoot her based on Snyder's words only a few months ago.

"No! I won't let you hurt him. He need's help!"

Buffy frowned as Faith's words reached her ears, and had to consciously focus on slowing down instead of speeding up, knowing it'd look strange if she came through the door at a full sprint but wasn't sweating or breathing hard at all.

"We want to help him, Miss," an unfamiliar, female voice replied just as Buffy reached the steps leading up the Giles' door. "Please step aw—"

Knowing there were police officers inside, too, Buffy thought it probably wouldn't be a good idea to just burst into the room in anyway, so she consciously made herself slow down to a regular walk even as Faith's anxiety spiked again.

"No! I won't let you hurt him!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow as she entered the room to see Faith in a protective stance, Giles just behind her feet, on one side of the room, facing off against two paramedics and two cops who were all reluctant to move any closer then halfway across the room from her. She glanced around even as all four of the strangers looked towards her sharply, and was a little surprised at the increase in the anxiety she was sensing from the four of them as they saw her. The two patrolmen's guns were in the holsters on their thighs, but their hands weren't far from them. While the paramedics were just behind the cops, a gurney and a bunch of medical equipment in hand.

"Buffy, Giles—"

"I know," the older Slayer cut in gently, giving the four strangers another quick glance before making her way around them, easily stepping around the hand one of the patrolmen started to raised to stop her. Not that she needed to, since his partner had immediately caught his elbow and pulled him back, shaking his head, which earned him a longer look. Buffy suppressed a frown as she took in the cop's face, knowing he looked vaguely familiar but not sure why. Though Sunnydale was a relatively small town, and she could have seen him off or on duty just about anywhere, the wariness he was radiating made her think otherwise. But the hysteria Faith was already halfway into was more important, so she returned her full attention to the brunette. She stopped just a few steps away from Faith, forcing herself not to look at Giles and instead waiting till the younger Slayer's gaze finally locked with her own before she continued, "He needs help." She nodded her back towards the paramedics. "That's why these guys are here, right?"

Faith glanced at the paramedics, frowning as confusion bent her brow a bit, but then she nodded. "Y-Yeah. I, uh. I guess?"

Buffy nodded again, holding a hand out. "So why don't we let them do their job, OK?"

Faith glanced down at Giles, still obviously worried, but Buffy could—thankfully—already sense that the fear that'd been dominating Faith's half-aggressive, half-defensive psyche had faded just enough for the Slayer to take control. "Yeah," she nodded again, moving towards Buffy but not taking the hand the blonde had offered. She just followed, placidly as Buffy took a gentle hold of her elbow and pulled her further back.

Immediately, the two paramedics rushed forward and got to work on Giles while the two cops approached them. The younger cop was annoyed, but the slightly older and vaguely familiar one was worried.

"We'll need to take your statements, Miss—?"

"Summers," Buffy replied immediately, though she was frowning as she tried to remember where she'd seen the slightly older cop before. He was probably in his late thirties, a little over-weight with curly-but-short brown hair. And he was sweating bullets to accompany the worry she could feel rolling off him. "I'm sorry, but have we met, Officer—" she glanced at the nametag on his uniform, "Officer Stevenson?"

"You're Summers?" the younger cop stared at her, and suddenly his irritation vanished, to be replaced by an echo of the wariness and fear his partner was feeling, but also by a bit of very clear amusement.

"Yes," Buffy replied, biting back the much more sarcastic retorts that wanted to come out, since they wouldn't help in this situation, "Buffy Summers." Suddenly the reason the older cop seemed so familiar clicked, and Buffy couldn't stop a wince. "You were at there at the high school, when Kendra was killed, weren't you?"

The older cop nodded, finally speaking up, his barely-familiar voice just enough to confirm her suspicious even without his nod. "Yeah, that was me."

After a moment of tense silence, Buffy shook her head. "Sorry about your arm," she offered, remembering the pained cry he'd made as she'd grabbed him and flipped him down onto the floor, just after she'd punched backwards into his face. "And your nose."

Stevenson nodded again, a little bit of irritation and embarrassment seeping into his emotional state, but not enough to dismiss the wariness and fear that were already there.

Buffy blinked, having expected a little more than that, but then turned her attention to the younger cop, hoping this wouldn't take too long. She needed to figure out what the hell had happened here. Though it looked like what she really needed to find was the damn glove, since the vault-thing Giles had built for it was destroyed by something, and now hanging open, empty. "You said something about statements?"

"Uh, yeah," the younger cop; McNally, a belated look at his nametag told her as he nodded, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket.

"Can we make this quick?" Buffy requested in what she hoped was a reasonable tone. "We'd like to get to the hospital to check on Dr. Giles ASAP."

McNally grimaced, a bit more displeasure and disbelief slipping into his psyche at her question, but his partner replied before he could. Though Buffy was a little interested to note that McNally's predominant emotion was still amusement.

"Yes, ma'am. Just as soon as your friend answers a few questions. Miss—"

"O'Connor." A strange feeling, stirring in her gut made Buffy replied before Faith could. "This is Faith O'Connor. She's my cousin, just moved here from the east coast. Gi—Dr. Giles was helping her figure out what she'd be doing for school here." She looked at Faith, pleased to sense that the brunette seemed to be following her made-up story fairly easily and didn't appear quite as hysterical as she had only a few minutes ago. Though hearing the paramedics working in the background didn't make either of them feel any better. Not to mention the fact that she wasn't entirely sure of why she didn't want the cops to know Faith's real name.

"Sunnydale Medical," the female paramedic started talking a little more loudly, and Buffy spared her another quick glance to see that she was talking into a radio. "Patients is a Caucasian male, mid-forties suffering from blunt object head trauma*. Notify ER, we're bringing him in." (11)

"That's what I thought you guys were doing tonight," Buffy continued, nodding at Faith as she forced the pained-expression that wanted to come out as the paramedics raised the gurney up higher, with Giles snatched securely onto it. "I was gonna come by a bit later, Oz told me you might be in trouble—" she forced a fake frown as she held Faith's gaze, "Why didn't you call me, anyway? Instead of—"

"I didn't call Oz, B. He called your cell," Faith interrupted, before pointing to the crushed cellular device a few feet away form them, grimacing a little as the paramedics rolled Giles pass them and out the door.

Buffy blinked, staring a little longer at her destroyed phone then she really needed to, partially to mourn it's all-too-early demise. "Oh. How did—?"

"Remember, Red had ya plug it in here yesterday?" Faith shook her head.

"Oh yeah," then Buffy shook her head, abruptly turning back to the cops that were still watching them nervously. "Sorry, what was your question?"

McNally stared at her for a second, but then shook his head. "Yeah, uh—We really only need to ask Miss O'Connor a few questions, since you arrived after we did, Miss Summers. If you'd step outs—"

"Giles was 'sposed ta meet with me at the high school library," Faith interrupted, continuing quickly before the cop could object, not bothering to slow down as he hurriedly took notes in his little notebook. "When he didn't show, I thought he musta forgotten or maybe we got the day mixed up or somethin', so I came here." She stopped for a second here, swallowing, but continued again before anyone could interrupt. "All the lights were on, so I knocked, like, three—maybe four—times. No one answered, so I tried the door handle. It wasn't locked, so I came in and, h-he was th-there, on the ground," she stopped, glancing over at the spot where the Watcher had been laying, where only a large pool of blood on the floor remained to show for it. "I uh," she shook her head, "I think I might've spaced out for a bit. Th-Then B—uh—Buffy's cell rang."

"We'll need your friend's full name, please," McNally spoke up. Unlike his partner, the wariness he seemed to feel towards her had steadily abated as he got into the note taking. More than anything, he was still really amused. Still a little wary, but very polite.

"Frien—Oh. Oz?" Faith blinked, then frowned at Buffy after shaking her head. "What is his full name, anyway? You just told me he was Red's boyfriend."

Buffy blinked, thinking back on it for a second before she realized the younger teen was right. "Oh, sorry. Oz is actually short for Osborne," she continued, turning back to the cops. "His first name's Daniel." Then she frowned again, "Is this gonna take much longer? The ambulance's already gone."

"We really only need to speak with Miss O'Connor, ma'am, you're free to—"

Faith interrupted him, "There's really not much more to tell. Oz told me to call for help, I did. 'Cept I, um, kinda crushed your cell, B." she grimaced, looking at the remains of the cell phone. "I'm—"

"Don't worry about it," Buffy shook her head, "I can get a new one." It might cost a bit of time and money, but she could manage it. And she, herself, probably would've destroyed a few things if she found Giles like this, too.

"What happened after that, Miss O'Connor?" McNally called their attention back to him. Buffy sensed a spike of irritation from him as he glanced at his partner, but it was quickly suppressed as he looked back at Faith. Apparently he wasn't used to his partner being so quiet during these kind of interviews. Which didn't surprise Buffy anymore than the clear fear she could sense from him bothered her. From her vague memories of him he was normally a real jerk.

Faith shrugged, "I waited for you guys to get here," then she winced again. "I'm sorry I was so, so—"

"Jumpy?" Buffy suggested in the mildest tone she could manage, and Faith nodded.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I was so jumpy when you guys got here. It's just, I guess I was worried wha—whoever hurt Dr. Giles might come back, and," Faith shook her head. "Anyway, sorry."

McNally nodded, "It's understandable, Miss O'Connor. Though most people relax when they see the uniforms, traumatic situations can cause unexpected responses." He shook his head, glancing at his partner again. "Have you got any questions, Stevenson?"

The older cop shook his head, jerking it from side to side. Then he turned and walked out the door, which earned a scowl from his younger partner.

Vastly irritated with his partners rude—and probably against-protocol or something like that—exit, McNally shook his head again as he turned back to the two teenagers, "Then I'll just need your place of residence, for now."

Faith glanced at Buffy, but beyond that didn't hesitate as she replied, "Sixteen-thirty, Revello Drive."

McNally nodded, pulling a card out of his pocket as he did so, and them held it out to Faith. "My numbers on there, if you think of anything more, call me. We'll be in touch." Then he stepped slightly to the side, clearly indicating he expected them to precede him out.

"Thank you, officer," Buffy nodded and quickly walked by him, Faith a few steps ahead of her. A part of her really wondered if the cops _would_ investigate this. But another part really didn't think they would. Not in Sunnydale.

Not that it really mattered to her. All she wanted to do was make sure Giles made it to the hospital and that the doctors were helping him, then _destroy_ what-or-whoever did this to him.

So she wasn't sure how to feel when she got outside to find all of the Scoobies arguing with Officer Stevenson, who clearly wasn't sure of what to do with the bunch of them, and was apparently confused at why they were all here. It was obvious to Buffy herself, but then she knew these people. And she could see how it might seem weird that so many teenagers were showing up so shortly after Giles—a bachelor in his late forties—was injured.

"Buffy! Faith!" Willow spotted them over the older cop's shoulder. Though the redhead was apparently still impressed enough by their authority that she didn't try to brush past them to reach her, she did quickly give up trying to get answers out of the jerk that was afraid of the Slayers upon spotting them just as Officers McNally was locking up Giles place behind them. "What happened to Giles?"

Buffy sighed as she saw the ambulance speeding off down the road. Obviously, the Scoobies had seen him and therefore knew just as much as she did. Only they didn't know that the only thing she knew that they didn't was that the glove was gone.

...Though that was a fairly important fact.

"Are these friends of yours, Miss Summers?" Officer McNally asked, the amusement that had seemed to dominate his psyche ever since he learned her name becoming a bit stronger again as he took in his partner's clearly chagrined expression.

"Yeah. Sorry. I was supposed to meet them at the Bronze," Buffy was a little disconcerted at just how easily lies—white lies, but still lies—were rolling off her tongue while she talked tonight. She wasn't even entirely sure of _why_ she wasn't telling more of the truth.

Obviously the demonic aspects of their lives might be harder than hard to explain, but for some reason she was sure it was more than that. That there the same instinctive part of her that had wanted to go patrol over into Pasadena—a good distance from her tiny, hole-in-the-wall apartment in LA—the night Charlie had been attacked, hadn't wanted the cops involved here. Involved with Faith. With Giles. Or the Scoobies.

Why?

She didn't know, really. Though she did know both the cops were a bit more wary of her then she thought they should be. Stevenson had been explained, she'd broken the guys arm and nose just a few months ago and he'd probably only just gotten his cast off fairly recently. But even though McNally seemed amused more than anything else, he'd still been wary. Too wary.

Unless he knew who she was, but didn't know she'd never hurt humans?

Buffy shook her head, forcing her attention back the present even as she frowned as she sensed Faith's fear and self-condemnation escalate again at the sight of the rapidly departing ambulance and the panicked Scoobies. "You don't have to worry about them, Officer. We'll be leaving shortly."

McNally looked at her for a long moment, but then nodded. "See that you do. And make sure Miss O'Connor calls me if she thinks of anything."

"She will." Not. She didn't add it out loud, of course, but it wasn't like she'd promised or anything. And this was her Watcher. This was the supernatural world. So it was her turf, not there's. "Have a good night."

"You do the same, Miss." McNally nodded again, before moving quickly down the steps and waving his partner to follow him to where their patrol car was parked.

Buffy and Faith moved down the steps at a more sedate pace, while the Scoobies hurried up to meet them. But most of Buffy's attention was on the departing cops. Which was probably the only reason she heard McNally's gibe at the older cop.

"_That's_ the girl that broke your arm a couple months back? From the way you'd talked about her, I was expecting some kind of Godzilla-chick. I bet she doesn't even weight a hundred pounds!"

Buffy frowned at that. She did weight more than a hundred pounds. Charlie had all but ordered her to put a lot of weight on, and keep it on, saying the Slayers metabolism meant she _had_ to eat a lot more than most women her age. Though she hadn't really liked the diet he'd prescribed, which had involved more than doubling the portions she'd been taking at most meals and eating some kind of snack every two to three active hours (which was whenever she wasn't asleep), but she couldn't argue with the results. She'd only put a little weight on, and it'd all gone into her still lean muscles. And yet she'd also had a _lot_ more energy to spare then she did before. She was also at least a bit stronger and a little bit faster even without the adrenaline boost that Charlie was convinced ramped her up during all actual fights. Plus, her recovery time from every injury she'd gotten recently had been a lot faster than before.

Her Mom hadn't said anything, but the kitchen had had a _lot_ more snacks loaded into it then before. And her Mom always cooked plenty for the three of them, enough so that both Slayers could eat till they were stuffed and they'd still have leftovers.

Her friends had noticed the increased portions, too. Willow had quickly realized the reasoning behind Charlie's demand when Buffy had told them of it. Oz and Xander had approved. Cordelia had been jealous. Not that Buffy could blame her. And Giles had highly approved, which had felt really, really good.

"Buff? You with us?"

Buffy sighed, nodding her head forcefully as she brought her attention back to the Scoobies, frowning only slightly when she noticed that Faith was staring off down the road in the direction the ambulance had gone. "Yeah, I'm here." She sighed again, "Obviously, we've got more trouble."

**_

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_**

High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 25, 1997

Charlie was highly disorientated when he finally stopped moving again, so it took him several long seconds to recognize Sunnydale High School's library. He had, of course, been there at very strange hours before—as Annie had needed the research for two different (though later dubbed 'pathetic') adversaries when he'd last visited, and that didn't include the time they'd spent trying to figure out who, exactly, had placed a bounty on Faith and Annie's heads—but all the times he'd been here with Annie's 'Scoobies' the lights had been on.

And after a long moment he realized his 'head' was almost a foot closer to the ground then it would be on his physical body. Which was rather strange, since he'd appeared high in the air all in all of his previous locations. But he was much more concerned with the fact that he obviously had _very_ little control over his astral form's movements.

Lily _had_ warned him that, as he'd never intentionally done this before—had, perhaps, only drifted into it while in REMS sleep from time to time, as many unknowingly did—he wouldn't have much control over this form. And he'd known that already, from Madam Ward's mentions of it. He knew that this form was directed by an area of the brain that simply wasn't accustom to taking conscious commands: so it would take a considerable amount of practice to gain any real control over it, and his subconcious would always have greater control over his astral state. He'd heard Madam Ward mention it, heard Lily say it, and really thought he'd understood it. But it was one thing to hear it, and a totally different thing to _experience_ it.

"**_Need go now!_**" Sineya's demanding voice startled Charlie out of his troubled musings, and Charlie again noticed that it was strange not being able to move in response to that startlement. He could change the direction of his gaze, but that still seemed to be all he could intentionally direct in this form, and only with great effort and no great amount of speed.

Unlike Sineya, who in her complete, barely-visible form was glaring down at him since his head was now at least half-a-foot closer to the ground than her head. He didn't need the physical contact that so dramatically magnified the emotions he could feel from her, to see that she was pissed. But it was only as she stuck her hand into his chest again that beneath that anger was terror as she started dragging him away.

"**_What—_**"

"**_Go back! Now!_**"

"**_But what about Faith and Ann—_**"

He was cut off again by that horrible sensation that seemed to signify his astral forms instantaneous movement from one place to another. This time he appeared outside of Giles' apartment, to see a cop car pulling away from the curb while Annie's friends gathered around her.

"_But, Buffy,_" Willow was shaking her head, frowning deeply. "_You killed the Lagos already, didn't you?_"

Annie sighed, nodding. "**_Yeah, I did._**" Her weary displeasure rolled down their bond. "**_So it looks like we've got another baddie around here somewhere._**"

"_They have the glove?_" Xander asked, and it seemed weird to Charlie just how faint the other teenagers emotions felt to him. But then again, they were actually hundreds of miles away from his body, and they weren't bonded to him in any direct way.

"**_Yeah,_**" Annie confirmed again, her frown and her displeasure somehow deepening.

"_We've gotta find that thing,_" Willow stated the obvious.

But it didn't seem to bother Annie, as she immediately nodded again. "**_Yeah, we do. Whoever hurt Giles' is gonna pay._**" This time it was righteous anger rolling along their bond, making Charlie more than a little uncomfortable. Even though he knew it wasn't remotely directed at him.

"**_We need t—_**" Annie stopped abruptly, and Charlie sensed a little tingle along the bond that he knew meant she was aware of his immediate presence just before she spun around to see him. "**_Charlie?_**" She frowned down at him, and shook her head. "**_What're you doing here?_**"

Faith was frowning as she looked around, "_B, math-man's not here. Just Red, X-man, Oz, Cordy and us._"

"_Dr. Eppes is back?_" Willow asked, her eyes wide as she, too, tried to see him. But she was also shaking her head. "_But I didn't think anyone was supposed to be away from their body this long! Especially not when he's so new at this._"

"**_Why?_**" Annie asked, worry as clear in her voice as it was on her face. But she shook her head before the redhead could respond. "**_Never mind. Charlie, you need—_**"

"**_Need go back body now!_**" Sineya appeared again, cutting Annie off in mid-sentence. And very obviously confusing her, though she shook off the surprise a second later: unknowingly making her incorporeal friend a little envious of her easy movements.

"**_Yeah, what she said._**" The elder living Slayer agreed, ignoring the bewildered looks her physical companions sent her way as she frowned at Sineya. "**_Who're you, anyw—_**" her eyes widened as realization hit, "**_Sineya?_**"

"_The First Slayer's here, too?_" Willow asked, looking rapidly around, before frowning again. "_But that doesn't make sense! She's been dead for millions of years, so she can't astral project. So if she's a ghost, shouldn't we be able to see her? And why can't we see Dr. Eppes? Wh—_"

"**_Later, Will,_**" Annie cut in, shaking her head again. "**_Charlie, you have to—_**"

"**_What happened with the glove?_**" Charlie interrupted.

But any response he might've gotten wasn't heard as he was yanked away yet again.

**_End of Frienemies – Part II._**

**AN: *sigh* I really, REALLY didn't want to make _Frienemies_ a three-parter, but it kind of insisted. ****The next part is longer than this part. **

**Anyway, I'm really sorry for the long wait, I hope this chapter (and the following one, which really should be done soon) makes up for it.**

**On another note, I generally don't reply to reviews in the chapters themselves, but I felt some of this needed to be said, as I've been straying closer and closer to Xander-bashing the last few chapters.**

**Honestly, I never liked Xander that much. There were times he was great, but it wasn't until he was with Anya that I started liking him at all on a regular basis. The more mature Xander that's becoming a common fanon figure for post-Season 7, I like. But that's not the Xander I'm writing now. I'm writing the Season 3 Xander, who, to me, often came off as more than a little self-centered and a jerk. And yes, I think he was jealous of Angel for the time Angel was with Buffy, though he also disliked him simply because he was a vampire, soul or no soul. The hating vampires-thing is understandable, considering the stuff with Jessie, but that doesn't necessarily make one more inclined to forgive it. After all, I'm pretty sure Anya said at one point that she was probably responsible for more deaths, and certainly more creative ones, then the Scourge of Europe. And even if she didn't, the fact that she was evil for nearly four times as long as Angel (and that she, as a human, CHOSE to become that in the first place), makes Xander more than a bit of a hypocrite. **

**That Angel did little more than make cryptic statements to Buffy, while generally refusing to offer real help, is a point. But his not wanting to go to the Master's Lair is also understandable. He was SCARED. And personally, I think that the fact that Xander was able to convince him into going anyway goes a long way to show that he did care about Buffy. After all, soul or not, he's a _Master_ Vampire. Xander was little more than a bug to him. But said bug was Buffy's friend, so Angel listened to him, instead of crushing him. Or just throwing him out, etc. Crucifix or no crucifix, Xander was just human and really didn't have the experience to take on a Master Vampire at that point. They're stronger, faster and more resistant to stuff like crosses than younger vampires. And Xander wasn't the one that usually fought them. The fact that he was willing to try and bully Angel into saving Buffy was certainly commendable, but I firmly believe Angel couldn't have been persuaded to do anything if he hadn't wanted to in the first place.**

**Also, we must keep in mind that Joss only got so much money for producing the show, especially in the earlier seasons. As a result, 'minor' characters like Angel, Spike and Faith, weren't always around. The show probably would've been more interesting if they could've been, but money matters. So yes, Angel didn't do that much fighting until closer to the end and in his own show.**

**As to Buffy and/or Charlie sensing that Xander's feelings regarding Angel might be more than jealousy, a major problem is that Angel isn't around. So other than occasional snide comments, there really isn't much thought of Angel. And Xander's currently semi-cheating on Cordelia right now while crushing on Willow. So his emotional state is fairly chaotic, as is Willow's. Thus the reason Buffy liked Mr. Platt's suggestion of some time alone with the two of them.**

**And Charlie's in LA most of the time. When he's around Buffy, his and Buffy's empathetic senses tend to focus on each other more than anyone around them. **

**But as you said, when Buffy's alone with the two of them, she could have a better chance at sensing more.**

**But, really, the bottom line is that for each of the segments where I'm focusing on specific episodes, I read the transcript of that episode several times. I watch that episode many, many, many times. And in the Buffy episode _Frienemies_ is tied to, S3E7 'Revelations,' Xander came off as jealous, pig-headed, and generally just not very likable for me. And sending Faith after Angel, _knowing_ how Buffy feels about him, kind of just sealed him in that 'lowest of the low' spot for me.**

**In my mind, Angel, the vampire with a soul, is essentially a human trapped in a vampire's body. So by labeling him as 'just a vampire' and telling Faith about him, then wanting to watch Faith slay him...**

**Yes, the fact that Xander actually told Faith that they shouldn't jump to conclusions on who'd attacked Giles a little later in the episode redeemed him a bit. But he almost immediately recanted on it as soon as he saw Buffy again, his exact words being "Your boyfriend's not as cured as you thought." **

**Sheer stupidity bothers me, but stubborn stupidity is even worse. And it's kind of hard to say I'm jumping the gun on this when even _Willow_ condemned him for it.**

**Anyway, apparently my opinion leaked into the chapter. If that makes the story seem less plausible/likable to you, or makes anyone seem out of character, I sincerely apologize. But it's not an aspect of my writing I can really control. Yes, I will undoubtedly be keeping a closer eye on how I handle Xander, but after re-reading through _Frienemies Part 1_, I honestly didn't have any problem with how I wrote Xander. Yes, he's in the background with the other Scoobies a lot, as I focus on Buffy and Charlie. And yes, I'm a bit harsh on him, but like I said, there's not much I can do about it if I think it's right. I'll promise to try to curb it a little, but that's all I can do for now.**

**Until we get into the later parts of the show, where Xander's grown up a bit more, he just generally irritates me. And that will probably effect how I write him. Sorry.**

**...OK. I'm done ranting now. *winces* I really didn't mean to spend close to a page on that, but I thought a lot of it required the drawn out explanatory bit. **

**Anyway, I hope everyone liked the chapter and will try to get the end of _Frienemies_ out ASAP.**

**

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**

NOTES FROM CHAPTER:

**(1) "A dangerous male witch is called a warlock. The word comes from the Old English word _war loga_, meaning "liar" or "deceiver" …" I got this little tidbit from Judy Allen's Fantasy Encyclopedia: A Guide to Fabulous Beasts and Magical Beings—From Elves and Dragons to Vampires and Wizards. The idea seemed to fit in pretty well, and if Myhnegon lived in ancient Rome, which isn't canon but I decided he did, then why wouldn't he be considered a 'war loga'? Plus, when the Roman Empire was expanding militarily and whatnot, someone like him who made magical weapons would definitely be appreciated.**

**(2) _Vivus_ is also Latin, and adjective for "alive" or "living," which seemed to fit fairly well with the idea of a conduit for _Living Flame_. **(URL: /translator/latin_to_)

**(3) Technopagan stuff – I've read a whole bunch of fan fics where Willow uses magic to enhance/outwit technology. Stuff like cellphones that never die, computers that CANNOT be hacked, or even hacking herself. Enough so that I'm pretty sure it's been accepted as a fanon staple, even though there really isn't (as far as I remember) too much in the canon to draw it from. Yes, Willow's gifted with computers early in the series and a super-witch later in the series, but I didn't see the combination in canon. Still, I find the idea interesting and wanted to use it. Therefore, I went back to Jenny's roots as a technopagan. I know she was a gypsy too, but she first introduced herself as a technopagan, so it's something that is, in fact, canon. The name itself basically labels it as the combination of magic and technology, so I'd think this is where Willow would've gotten the idea to start with. Thus, we see her starting here in this chapter...**

**(4) Most of the scene for Diane Dormer's death was paraphrased from Robert Joseph Levy's Go Ask Malice: A Slayer's Diary. I honestly didn't like most of the book, but that scene kind of fit for this, so I used it.**

**(5) RDBMS = Relational DataBase Management System – A database model that's based on E.F. Codd's relational model. Mr. Codd invented the model specifically for database management for IBM in 1969. **(URL: .org/wiki/RDBMS)

**"Its core idea is to describe a database as a collection of predicates over a finite set of predicate variables, describing constraints on the possible values and combinations of values. The content of the database at any given time is a finite (logical) model of the database, i.e. a set of relations, over one per predicate variable, such that all predicates are satisfied…"**(URL: .org/wiki/Relational_model)

**Nothing anyone says will convince me that that isn't something Charlie would have studied and been interested in. It sounds so much like something he might say while we watched 'Charlie vision' on NUMB3RS it's ridiculous. Thus, the slightly lengthy direct quote.**

**(6) Filemaker 4.0v1 is a RDBMS that, according to Wikipedia, was released in September 1997 by Claris Corporation, a subsidiary of Apple Computer. According to Wikipedia, the major improvement in this version of the program was that 'plug-in architecture' was introduced, which Willow talked about a little. Basically, this would have enabled Charlie to set up a program that's easy for Buffy to use and, at the same time, easy for him to keep all the data she sends him organized. **(URL: .org/wiki/Filemaker)

**And, according to the Filemaker website, "schools using FileMaker software throughout their institution—including student information…make better decisions based on accurate data." That being the case, it really does sound like a program that Charlie would've been interested in anyway, and one that just happened to suit his needs when he started setting Buffy's laptop up, intent on helping her with Slaying in anyway he can. **(URL:?homepage=1009)

**(7) "The Hydra was a massive snake with nine heads on nine separate necks... The Greek hero Heracles (called Hercules in Roman mythology) was given the task of killing it. He and his companion, Iolaus, found its lair. But not only was the Hydra venomous, each time Heracles cut off one of its heads, two more grew in its place..." Another tidbit from Judy Allen's Fantasy Encyclopedia... But this was really just me having fun with mythology and whatnot. But for basic facts on the Hydra, you should check out Wikipedia. **(URL: .org/wiki/Lernaean_Hydra)

**(8) Deosil = Sunward/Sunwise AKA clockwise. As in, the way the sun would move around a sundial.**

**(9) I did a bit of research for the crystal-coloring that Lily used, but couldn't find that much I really liked. Don't get me wrong. I found a LOT of information. I just didn't find a lot that I liked or a lot that people seemed to agree on as a whole.**

**What I did find was that each direction on a compass is apparently associated with an element. North is Earth. East is Air. South is Fire. And West is Water. Therefore, I figured green signified Earth, as plant-life is so integrally part of it. Red obviously signifies fire, just as blue signifies water. I had a little trouble with air, since I was already using clearish-white crystals to represent purity and protection, but I ended up deciding on yellow since the sun rises in the east and is definitely considered a part of the sky. I hope no one finds that too far-fetched.**

**(10) Honestly, I don't like the spell I came up with very much, but it serves its purpose. I got the translation form an online translator, so it's probably not all that good, so I apologize to anyone who actually knows Latin (and welcome suggestions as to how I might improve upon it). **

**Anyway, "Ego sum procul pacis. Ego sum universa. Ego transporto meus mens sicco. Eco transporto meus phasmatis sursum altus, tutus quod serenus. Ego transporto meus mens sicco. Ego peto scientia—" is Latin for "I am at peace. I am complete. I send my mind out. I send my spirit up high, safe and serene. I send my mind out. I seek knowledge—" **(URL: /free_online_?from=English&to=Latin)

**(11) "Suffering from blunt object head trauma" sounded a little weird to me, but that was exactly what the paramedics said in Revelations, and the same thing happened here, just in a different place, so I stuck to the script... Though I didn't have Giles wake up suddenly to tell her to destroy the glove. That seemed a little too far-fetched for me.**

**

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**

Again, hope this was worth the wait and I'll try to make the wait to come considerably less.

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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NEXT: **_Chapter 12: Frienemies – Part III_.**


	13. Chapter 12: Frienemies P3 of 3

**Disclaimers: **_**Buffy the Vampire Slayer**_** belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. **_**Numb3rs**_** belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)  
AN: **Hi everyone! Sorry for the hideous wait on this chapter. I just had a lot of problems to work through while writing it. And I'd like to thank my beta reader, NeverTooOld, for not only beta-reading, but also for trying to help me get over my writers block with this chapter. Many, many thanks! ^_^

Anyway, this time around I'm going to recommend Inner Peace by 1st endeavor, a NUMB3RS fic on that's full of plenty of drama, angst, a nice quick-pace and plenty of heart-warming moments to balance out the drama and angst. And it's finished. As always, I'm sad to see a great fic finished because that means they're isn't more to come. But that doesn't diminish it at all, and who knows; there could be a sequel! :-D

Warnings: None that I know of—but if you see anything I should be warning anyone about herein, please let me know.

Now without further ado, enjoy the chapter! ^_^

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**A Call Away**

_**Part II in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 12: Frienemies – Part III**_

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_1291225019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Lily's House, Pasadena, California – Friday, October 25, 1996**_

Lily winced as she watched Charlie's head jerk to the side and back again, seeming to move his whole body with the painful-looking motion, but not seeming to draw his attention at all.

Maybe if you projected yourself beyond a certain distance from your physical body, you ceased to feel it? She knew from the two times she'd actually managed to make it to astral form on her own—without the spell that the coven had only let her use once in a very controlled setting—that she certainly hadn't noticed anything her body was feeling.

But, then again, she'd been floating right over her body, which had just been sitting there with half a dozen elder witches watching over her. A few of them adept enough at mage-sight to actually _see_ her astral form.

Lily, herself, couldn't see magic in its raw form. Couldn't really move in astral form. Couldn't even make it to astral form when she was even half as stressed as she was now. She'd been trying to meditate for nearly an hour, but every time she thought she might be close to achieving that inner calm, Charlie would cry out or jerk around again and her concentration would be completely broken.

She really was afraid he might hurt himself, moving around like he was.

And she was terrified at just how long he'd been gone already.

When she'd used the spell to achieve the initial separation it'd worked. But she'd been back in her body no more then ten minutes after she'd left it.

Charlie had just passed an hour.

She knew the point of the spell was to protect the astral form, while helping the seeker find what they were looking for. And unlike her, Charlie had really been looking for something really important, and something a good distance away. Lily had merely wanted to achieve astral projection, to see what it felt like in that form. So that was all the spell had helped her with. Charlie had wanted to know what was happening in Sunnydale. With Buffy, whom he was empathetically bound to. And who lived right on top of the Hellmouth.

All of which could obviously effect the outcome of the spell.

A spell that she wasn't entirely sure Charlie had actually finished. Her Latin sucked, despite her mentors' best efforts to improve upon her education and Lily's own efforts in what little spare time she had to learn the ancient, but powerful language.

Still, she was pretty sure Charlie hadn't even gotten to the final verse of the spell, which would be _bad_. Since the final verse was the one that was supposed to help guide him home after he'd found what he was seeking.

Lily winced as Charlie seemed to jerk upward, as if little strings were pulling him up by his head, only to drop him a second later. He'd started doing that just a few minutes ago. In fact, he'd started moving a lot more in the last few minutes then he had initially.

She glanced at the phone on the side table nearest the door to the entryway, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth nervously as she tried to summon the courage to call for help.

The person she'd normally associate the idea of calling for help with was Buffy, and even if the Slayer could help with this, it could be a distraction she really couldn't afford at this point in time.

Which meant Lily had to call one of the older witches. All of whom were going to be more than a little cross with her for helping Charlie try this without a truly experienced mentor supervising.

"_Gah!_"

Lily jumped at the pained noise Charlie had made, and the next thing she knew she was standing next to the side table, the phone already in her hand. She sighed, and then reached down and quickly hit in the number she knew best for magical maladies, hesitantly setting the phone against her right ear as she finished dialing.

*_RING_* *_RING_*

'_Please pick up,_' the blonde fretted, _really_ not wanting to call anyone else with this.

*_RING_* *_RI—_*

"_Lincroft Manor, Deborah speaking,_" the older witch didn't sound 'tired,' per say, but her words were a little more drawn out then normal. So maybe fatigue just slowed the brilliant brunette down a little more than anything else. "_Hello?_"

Lily cringed as she realized she really should say something, then quickly started talking, "Hi, Miss Lincroft, it's Lily. Lily O'Connor."

"_Good evening, Lily._"

"I'm sorry for calling so late—"

"_Don't be, little sister. Is everything alright?_"

"Ye—No," Lily stopped, wincing again as Charlie emitted another pained yelp.

"Gah!"

"_Little sister?_"

"I—" Lily cut herself off with a nervous sigh, before closing her eyes as she tried to focus on just asking the older witch for help. "I think Charlie might be in trouble."

"_Dr. Eppes?_" Deborah paused, and then continued, her still supremely calm voice inspiring a little bit of envy in the panicking Lily. "What happened?"

"I ta-taught him the astral projection spell. The one that's in the beginner's guide?"

The pause was probably only momentary, not even a second, but it was noticeable enough to make the already panicking witch-in-training fidget.

"_Why?_"

"He thought Buffy needed his help, and that was the quickest way to figure out how he might be able to help her." Lily spoke quickly again, pausing only briefly to take a quick breath before hurrying on, anxious to have everything out in the open. "But he's been gone for more than an hour and—"

"_Where?_"

"Wh—I-I don't know. With Buffy, I guess."

"_No. Where is his body now? Where are you?_"

"O-Oh. We're in the living room. At my house."

"_We'll be arriving shortly._"

*_CLICK_*

Lily blinked again, not at all sure how she felt about being hung up on as she placed her own phone back in its cradle.

On one hand, help was on the way. On the other...well. At least help was on the way.

She shook her head as she looked over towards Charlie again, wincing as she watched him jerk upwards again. Not as far as the first two times, but just as rapidly.

And then he did it again, with almost no time in between the motions.

Lily shook her head again, glancing towards her front door.

Hopefully they'd be here soon...

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_381181295019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**A Moving Vehicle, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 25, 1996**_

Charlie's vision—however he was actually 'seeing', as it wasn't through his eyes—momentarily blacked out under the repeated onslaught of far too much sensory information. When he appeared, it took him a very long moment to realize he was staring at the backseat of a car that was moving rapidly over the road. After several too-long seconds of struggling, he finally forced his sight up and looked out through the rear-window to see a familiar, horribly cheery sign falling into the distance that read:

_WELCOME_

_TO_

_**S**__**UNNYDALE**_

_**Enjoy Your Stay!**_

The familiarity of the sign that he knew Annie despised didn't reassure him much, especially as he could feel that he was, somehow, still moving. Obviously, he was stuck in the moving car, and therefore not stationary, but he couldn't for the life of him understand why. It took several more seconds of contemplation before he noticed he could, in fact, hear two women in the front conversing.

"_I don't know vhat you are so vorried about._" One woman—who's accent Charlie couldn't place, though he recognized that it wasn't American—said, exasperation clear in her almost squeaky-high voice. "_The vatcher bought your story and never reported your presence. Vhether he vakes up any time soon or not, ve're already out of the city! Ve'll be long gone before the Council thinks to look for us._"

'_Uh oh,_' Charlie realized, missing the ability to shake his head as he did so. '_Obviously these are the people responsible for hurting Dr. Giles._'

"_The Council, perhaps,_" this woman had a very distinct English accent, and her tone made her sound much colder than the other woman. "_But the Slayers might choose to pursue us on their own._"

'_She was right about that. They must have the glove around here somewhere._'

"_I don't care if there are two of them now—though I do vonder how the hell that could've happened—Slayers __**don't**__ think for themselves. Vith their vatcher out of commission they'll be completely lost._"

The Englishwoman snorted, "_I used to think that way, too. But you haven't met Summers. And Lehane follows her lead._"

"_Look, I know that handling the Slayers and vatcher vas your assignment, but you're really vorrying far too much—_"

Charlie almost wasn't surprised when Sineya suddenly appeared right next to him, the fact that he could see the buildings of Sunnydale disappearing into the distance through her glaring eyes not making the glare any less formidable.

"_**Need go back body NOW!**_"

"_**I know!**_" Charlie replied, her repeated demand easier to appreciate now that he knew clearly had no control over his astral movements. "_**But I don't know how! And where the hell is the glove?**_"

That same jerking sensation that signaled the beginning of too-rapid movement came again. But instead of suddenly going somewhere else, his gaze was just yanked downward, and he found himself looking at a cloth bag that contained something wrapped up numerous times.

"_**Need go back body **__**NOW**__**!**_"

Wrapped up just like Annie had mentioned Giles' wanting the glove to be...

And it was already outside of Sunnydale.

"_**We need to stop the car!**_" Charlie insisted, his gaze still mostly locked on the glove. But he could see Sineya in his peripheral vision. Not that he was entirely sure on how he could have peripheral vision in this state, but he could still, just barely, see her.

She was glaring steadily at him, but then she was sliding around him and he heard the woman with the high-pitched voice suddenly shriek. Right before the car swerved out of the road followed by a resounding crash.

...Apparently Sineya, at least, _could_ also affect people that were still in their bodies.

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Outside Giles' Apartment, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 25, 1996**_

Buffy grimaced, but decided to just ignore her friends' questions for the time being. That was the kind of thing a Slayer could justifiably get away with in a crisis, after all. "Cordy," she snapped, effectively garnering the brunette's attention. "You drive Will, Xander and Oz to the library, alright?"

It was a testament to just how much an injured Giles affected all of them that Queen-C didn't hesitate or express any derisiveness at Buffy's request at all. Just nodded as she replied with a simple, "Yeah, sure."

"Will," Buffy nodded to the redhead, gesturing towards Giles' apartment. "I didn't see the books Giles had out before, or the red urn in—"

"They're not there," Willow confirmed worriedly. "I looked already."

"Right. Well, we're gonna need that living-flame stuff, so you have to figure out how to make it. Giles keeps most of his magic stuff locked up in his office at school. The spare keys are in the Rose Code book that's under the counter."

Willow blinked, and Buffy could clearly sense her brilliant friend's hurt at being excluded as she complained, "I didn't know Giles had spare keys."

"Will, watcher-man doesn't want you messing around with magic stuff, remember?" Xander spoke up before Buffy could. "Why would he give you the key to where he locks it up?"

"Plus, he doesn't have to worry about you breaking the door," Buffy pointed out, grinning as she successfully summoned a small smile.

"Why would you break into Giles office?" the redhead asked.

Buffy shrugged, "Don't really care about the office. But I've had to break into the weapons cage a few times. Guess Giles got sick of replacing the lock a few months back, since that's when he told me where the spares were." She shrugged again, then turned towards Xander and Oz. "You guys need to help Willow, but look in the weapons cage first. Faith and I actually found three of those urn things. The other two should be in there somewhere."

Xander immediately nodded, "Got it, Buff." Then he followed Willow and Cordelia over to his girlfriend's car, which was parked just behind the ambulance.

Oz, on the other hand, seemed uncertain about something. Uncertain enough that he _felt_ distinctly out of character to her empathetic senses. Oh, Oz felt plenty more than his quiet, super-calm mannerisms often indicated, but uncertainty wasn't an emotion she was used to sensing from him. So she wasn't at all surprised when he hung back.

"What is it, Oz?"

He met her eyes squarely as he answered, his brief reply just audible enough for the slayer to hear. "Post was here. Real recently."

Buffy blinked, even less used to her quiet friend bringing up something his wolf-senses were telling him. But then she nodded, recognizing the importance of the offered information. "So either the bad guys took her—"

"There's only one other scent here I can't place, Buffy. Another woman." The werewolf told her, and she could sense the same smoldering outrage she herself was feeling building up inside the quiet man.

"Thanks for letting me know," Buffy nodded again, and received a nod in return.

"How do we find you?"

The elder Slayer winced at the very obvious flaw in her plan, but quickly worked around it, the improvisations flying out of her mouth as they came to her. "Faith and I'll look for the glove. We'll check-in in an hour if we can't find it. If we find it before that, we'll try to stall the baddies or get the glove back." She shook her head again. "Hopefully they're holed up somewhere nearby, but—"

"_Annie!_"

Buffy jumped as Charlie's shout reverberated through her brain, then she spun around to find him, nailing his barely-visible form with a glare as she saw his transparent chest sitting right on—or maybe in—the ground. "Charlie! What are you—"

"_It's in a car! Leaving town! Sineya made it crash, but—_"

"Wha—" Buffy blinked, but then she cut herself off, shaking her head as she remembered why he shouldn't be here at all. "Never mind, you shouldn't—"

"_The glove is—_"

And, again, he was gone.

Just as Sineya appeared a few feet away. And Buffy could only stare as the ancient spirit released a shriek of frustration before, also, vanishing again.

"Buffy?" Oz asked, as much worry as he ever expressed clear in his tone and even clearer to her mind, though she might be confusing it with some of her own.

The Slayer closed her eyes for a second as the tactically-brilliant, often carefully hidden portion of her brain put the pieces together to puzzle out what was going on. Then she opened her eyes to answer Oz. "Change of plans. The glove's leaving town by car. The car crashed, so Faith and I'll try to catch it. You guys need to get the _living flame_ to the road out of town ASAP. OK?"

Charlie's description, and therefore her own, were thankfully enough since there was actually only one road out of town. It quickly branched off in several different directions, connecting the town to various highways. But if you were leaving town by road, that was the way you had to go. The only other ways you could go would be by plane, boat or train. And Charlie had clearly said it was a car leaving town that had crashed.

Oz nodded, saying, "Take care," then he hurried over to Cordelia's waiting car, slipping into the back seat next to Willow as the ambulance pulled away, lights flashing.

Buffy spared the departing emergency vehicle on anxious glance, but then shook her head before moving quickly over towards her sister Slayer. Giles would want them to get the glove back, after all. And whether he survived or not, she wasn't going to let their latest enemy get away. Especially since this enemy had hurt her Watcher.

Faith was staring at her hands; probably had been since Buffy's attention had gone off of her a few minutes before, since the younger teen hadn't said anything since then.

"Faith," Buffy spoke gently, mindful of the extreme emotions rolling around in her friend's head.

Still, the brunette jumped. But she got a hold of herself and looked towards Buffy a moment later. Though it was only then that Buffy saw what the younger girl had been staring at. Faith's hands were covered in blood. Giles' blood.

Buffy swallowed, but forced herself to continue after giving the other girl's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We gotta go."

"Giles?" Faith asked softly.

"He'll be OK." Buffy forced a gentle smile, "But we've gotta get the bad guys now. You OK?"

Faith glanced down at her hands, before suddenly reaching into her pocket to pull out a little plastic package. She opened it, grabbing a sanitizing cloth to start rapidly wiping her hands with it.

Buffy could tell that's what it was, even before she saw how effectively it was cleaning the blood off her friend's innocent hands, because she could smell the lemony, stinging scent of the sanitizer. Though it wasn't as bad as that stuff usually smelled to the Slayer, which was probably why Faith had bought it.

A moment later, Faith was tucking the dirtied cloth back in her pocket with now clean hands as she looked up at Buffy again, "Five by five, B. Where to?"

* * *

_381181295019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**High School Library, Sunnydale, California – Friday, October 25, 1996**_

Charlie _really_ wanted to grimace as he appeared in the library again. Especially since this time his neck was sticking out of the ground. '_This can't be good._'

A noise from behind the nearby counter just barely caught his attention, but the familiar, quiet voices definitely demanded notice.

"_Owe! Can't we at least turn the lamp on the counter on?_" Willow's quiet complaint sounded really, really distant.

"_No._" Xander's retort didn't sound any closer, even though Charlie knew they were behind the counter. "_Not with Snyder out there._"

"_I can't believe that troll's actually here now._" Cordelia complained.

"_Well, he's gotta get his kicks patrolling when Mr. Walters isn't here to yank him back, doesn't he?_"

"_I guess,_" Cordelia agreed with her boyfriend's assessment. "_But you'd think he'd know no one would come to school after dark in Sunnydale._"

"_Hey, I'm not gonna complain._" Xander replied, "_Not when it ups the chances of Snyder gettin' eaten by the night's bumpers. 'Though I don't actually think I'm that lucky._"

"_But really, we're the only ones that'd be here late at night, and that's only when we have to. So who does he think he's gonna catch?_"

Xander obviously thought about whether he should really answer his girlfriend's question or not, but after a moment decided to anyway. "_Cordy, I really don't think he'd mind catching us. At all._"

"_Oh... Well, that su—_"

"_Found it,_" Oz spoke up suddenly, making all three of his corporeal companions jump. And making Charlie wonder what 'it' was, since he couldn't see over the counter they were crouched down behind, even if the lights had been on.

"_You found the Rosetta* Codex?_" Willow asked, sounding relieved. (1)

Charlie thought he heard the faint sound of metal clicking together, and then Oz replied. "_Yeah, got the keys._"

"_I thought Buffy said it was in the 'Rose Code book'?_" Xander asked, clearly confused.

"_She meant the Rosetta Codex,_" Willow answered. "_It's the reference Giles uses the most for translating ancient language. Named after the Rosetta Stone that—_"

"_OK, OK, history later, Will,_" Xander interrupted, "_We're kinda on a deadline, remember?_"

Charlie couldn't help but be relieved as the small group of shadowy figures came into his very narrow range of sight, despite the fact that they couldn't see him.

He watched as the one he thought was Oz reached deftly for the nearby office door handle, slipping a key into the lock. And unlike Charlie, who almost never picked the right key out of an unfamiliar set on the first try, Oz apparently did, because he had the door open a second later.

Charlie also couldn't help but be relieved by the fact that Annie's friends were obviously just as used to deciphering her as he was.

He knew that most of the time when Annie was messing up names and whatnot, she was over-doing it to make light of a situation. That was how she made one of her weaknesses a strength. She didn't try to hide it, and instead used it to make others feel better. As was clearly demonstrated here.

His empathy was nowhere near as powerful as he'd gotten used to it being—and it was overwhelmed by the nearby presence of the Hellmouth that he seemed to be slowly sinking towards—but he could still sense a little, and he could definitely hear the reduction in the stress the younger teens were feeling as Willow started babbling about something unrelated to the evil they were currently fighting and Xander—with the ease of long practice—cut in with a friendly reminder.

Something linked to the Rosetta Stone would obviously have some kind of tie to ancient translations. But history wasn't something Annie was really interested in, and she'd probably never heard of Rashid*, Egypt—the place the stone had been found, and named after (Rosetta was actually its anglicized name)—so 'Rosetta' wasn't something she'd be guaranteed to remember unless the book was one she saw frequently. She just didn't care enough about names to bother. But 'Rose Code book' was clearly close enough for her friends—or at least Willow and Oz—to figure out she'd been referring to Giles' _Rosetta Codex_. (2)

As getting into Dr. Giles' office was obviously important for some reason or another, Charlie was also relieved when they got in. But less relieved when they turned one of the smaller desk lamps on and started looking around inside. They were making an effort to be quiet, lest their malicious principal wandered by, but it made it nearly impossible for him to know what was going on.

Luckily, they apparently needed something out of the weapons cage, too. Since Xander and Oz came out with flashlights and went in there a few moments later while Willow and Cordelia kept looking around in the office. At least he could see more in the cage. Though he could really only see what their flashlights hit, but it was much more interesting to watch then an otherwise empty, dark room.

He would've jumped in surprise when Sineya suddenly appeared right in front of him, but again it was something he wasn't able to do in astral form, so he didn't. He also didn't wince when it took her only a second to spot him.

Her incorporeal 'eyes' hovered several feet above his own as she glared down at him. "_**Back. To. Body. NOW!**_"

Her clearly annunciated words surprised him a little, even though it was the same message she'd been repeating all night.

'_Well, at least her grammar's getting better,_' Charlie noted, and was reminded of his inability to wince again as her glare somehow sharpened. Obviously she could still hear his thoughts.

"_**Back—**__"_

"_I know, Sineya! I know!_" Charlie cut in, wanting to shake his head as he did so. "_But I want to see what happens first—and I don't know how to get back anyway._"

"_**Back body now!**_"

Charlie felt more than a little bad as he deliberately ignored the agitated ancient as he turned his attention to Willow and Cordelia when they came out of the office.

The redhead was carrying one of Giles' tomes while the cheerleader had several small bags in her arms. "_Did you find it?_" Willow whispered urgently.

"_I barely remember what it looked like, Wills,_" Xander replied, remorse clear in his voice. "_And Giles' has got a lot of stuff in here. How are we supposed to find it in the dar—_"

"_**Back body now!**_"

"_Found it._" Oz interrupted, rising with two small objects in either hand after clicking his flashlight off and setting it down on a nearby shelf.

"_Great, come on,_" Willow waved them after her, and then hurried back into Giles office, the other three right behind her.

"_**Back body now!**_"

"_How?_" Charlie demanded, once again annoyed at not being able to see what was going on and unable to even bow to his spirit-friend's demand.

"_**Back body now!**_"

"_**Sin—**_" Charlie stopped abruptly as a flash of light came out of Giles office. After a moment it dimmed, and then started flickering like a really bright flame. "_OK. That was weird. Hey!_"

While he'd been trying to see what was going on in the office, Sineya had crouched down beside him and stuck her arm down through his head. It'd felt weird enough when she was sticking her hand into his chest. Sticking it through where his brain should be to apparently try to reach his heart, since that was where she seemed to be tugging, felt decidedly worse.

"_Sineya, what're you doing?_"

"_**Need back body now!**_" Sineya grunted as she started to rise, only to stop and stumble as she apparently wasn't able to pull him up with her."_**Up!**_"

"_**How?**_" Charlie snapped, only to be distracted again as another flash of light—just like before—came from the librarian's office.

A moment later, the foursome he'd been watching came out again. Willow and Oz were both carrying the objects Oz had found—which were apparently urns—that had small, but strangely bright all-red flames flickering out of them.

"_I really don't get what's so special about these things,_" Cordelia gestured to the urns Willow and Oz were carrying. "_I mean, so they're burning really smelly sand, and thankfully __not__ making really smelly smoke. So what?_"

"_That's just the catalyst for Living Flame,_" Willow told her. "_And the urns are the, the—um—the conduit, I guess. Living Flame's really dangerous, you know. So you need something to contro—_"

All four jumped as the clock on the wall struck midnight and began to declare the start of the new day.

"_Damn, I hadn't realized it was this late,_" Xander shook his head. "_How long have we been here?_"

"_Not long,_" Oz replied.

Cordelia agreed, "_Yeah it was, like, after eleven when we left Giles' place, anyway._"

"_We'd better get these to Buffy,_" Oz murmured, and the other three all nodded in agreement.

A moment later—after Xander had checked to make sure the coast was clear—they'd left and the library was once again void of any kind of physical presence.

"_**Go back body now!**_" Sineya insisted again, grunting as she again started trying to pull him up with renewed effort, but apparently to no avail.

Charlie didn't really think that was worth replying to. He'd already told her he didn't know how and asked if she did. Several times, in fact.

But it was only now—as the clock finally stopped declaring the new day—that the reason for her insistence finally, fully dawned on him.

Because now his chin had started to sink into the floor, and the only thing he could clearly feel was the ominous presence of the Hellmouth immediately below him. Even Sineya's distress had started to feel a bit distant, and the strange tugging motion she was attempting seemed to become weaker each time, despite the fact that she was clearly continuing to try her hardest.

It was clear to him now that he'd been sinking slowly over the course of the whole night. But worse it was also clear that he was sinking faster, steadily down into the ground.

Towards the Hellmouth.

Which could only be a bad thing.

"_**Need back body now!**_"

"_**How? **I can't control my movements!_" He didn't want to yell back at her, but he was starting to panic himself and her demands and the continually weakening, ineffective jerking motion she kept trying to pull him up with didn't make him feel better at all.

"_**Go to body now!**_" Sineya insisted, her entire incorporeal form seeming to strain as she leaned back, her arms stretching out as she tried to pull him up.

"_But—_" Charlie stopped in confusion as the Hellmouth's terrifying presence seemed to fade a bit, just as a bright light appeared high above his head.

His spiritual sight rose towards it of its own volition, and it was several moments before he realized the rest of his astral form was also rising towards the great, clear light.

While he was moving away from the horrible Hellmouth, he wasn't sure going towards the light was what he really wanted to do. Not when people who survived near-death experiences often spoke of seeing a light. He'd always reasoned that it was just their subconscious awareness of the world around them just before they woke up, or maybe the electrical impulses of their brain crashing together as they struggled to keep the body going. But it was definitely something people said, so did he really want to go towards the light?

"_**Go back body now!**_" Sineya broke him out of his thoughts, and he was startled—though he couldn't, of course, move to show it in any way—to see a smile had appeared on her face, expressing clear relief as she pushed him towards the light.

It wasn't like Charlie really had a choice, since he couldn't control his astral form at all. But her reassurance and obvious relief did make him feel a bit better just before he seemed to enter the light and could see nothing beyond the great, blinding whiteness.

Then everything went dark.

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Near the edge of Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Buffy knew they probably should've taken Cordy's car in pursuit of the dangerous magical artifact and the people that'd taken it from her Watcher with brutal force.

She also knew that she hadn't really considered it because of the feeling crashing through and colliding within her psyche as she'd watched the pushy but diligent paramedics prepare Giles for transport to Sunnydale's hospital. One friend in the hospital was one too many, as far as she was concerned. If she could've gotten away with sending Faith to the library, too, she probably would have. But she knew that'd be pushing it. And it wouldn't help her sister Slayer overcome the emotional roadblock she'd stumbled upon tonight.

Still, Sunnydale wasn't a big town. It was actually a very small town with an unusually large range of attractions, a peculiarly big population and a totally bizarre number of churches and graveyards.

And the Slayers could run faster than most cars could move safely through the town, since the narrow roads and numerous turns didn't bother them and they could take any number of short-cuts to reach the road out of Sunnydale.

So it wasn't long before they reached the town's horrible sign. The design suited the town's cheerful name, but that only made the garishly bright thing all the more awful when one considered how many people died here on a regular basis from far from natural causes. Buffy wanted to tear the thing down every time she saw it. But, once again, she had to focus on something more important.

Which, according to Charlie, was the car less than half a mile down the road, half of its front end wrapped around a tree.

"B' that's—"

"I see her," Buffy cut in, grimacing as Post looked back at them from the passengers' side of the car.

An angry scowl overtook the Englishwoman's face. As that face was already covered in blood trailing unevenly down from the cut in her forehead, it was a rather ugly sight. But that didn't make her disappearing into the back of the car a moment later a good thing.

"Looks like—what'd you call her? Mary Poppins?—hasn't been too honest with us," Buffy commented even as she bowed her head to put on a little more speed.

She heard Faith snort from just behind her, though her pounding on the pavement had also become a bit more rapid. "'Magine that."

Though both Slayers could sense dark magic radiating off their target, neither gave much thought to it as they closed the distance. After all, if the glove was in there they knew that thing felt evil. And Post, herself, didn't have the most innocent aura.

But, as a result, they were more than a little surprised when less than a few feet from the car they crashed into an invisible wall of power that immediately threw them off their feet and back through the air they'd just run through. The pulse of power that blew them back was like a punch in the gut, which drove all the air out of their lungs in one great gasp. Which was why neither Slayer made much noise as they flew back through the air, though a second, breathless noise of surprise escaped them as they landed on their asses, Buffy missing landing on top of Faith by little more than an inch.

"_Ow_." Faith complained a second later, grunting as she forced herself to her feet. The shocked girl that'd run away from Giles' apartment building to chase down his assailants with her had seemingly been overcome sometime during the run over here, leaving a pissed-off Slayer in her place. "Spell of some kind?"

Buffy nodded while she dusted off her backside with quick, precise hands as she glared at the car, not liking that the dark magic she could sense from it seemed to be getting stronger. "Some kind of force-field, I guess." She winced as the dark magic she could sense growing in the car abruptly became significantly stronger, and dark clouds suddenly formed over their heads.

"Hmph," Faith grunted again, "That doesn't look good." Then she shook her head, "But why didn't the force-field stop the crash?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow, before leaning down to pick up a small pebble off the ground. Without a word, she chucked it at the car. After passing unhindered through whatever they'd run into, it hit just above the rear license plate and bounced back, leaving an obvious knick in the paint. "Must just be 'sposed to keep us out."

"Huh, ex-Watcher shielding their car against Slayers seems kinda suspicious, doesn't it?"

Buffy nodded, "Not that she looked all that happy to see us, anyw—" She stopped, snapping her full attention back to the car as the driver's door swung open and another woman stumbled out.

Ignoring the blood that was also dripping down her face, the thirty-something woman with black hair turned towards the back of the car, a frantic look on her face as she started yelling, presumably at Post, "_No!_ Imbecile! You cannot—"

"_Tauo freim!_"* was shouted from inside the car, just before a burst of lightning smashed out of it, blasting the door off and into the other woman with enough force to send both flying across the road. (3)

Both slid several feet after their crash landing, but the woman didn't move or make a sound. And as she wasn't sensing anything from the woman after that first burst of surprised/angry pain, Buffy was pretty sure the unknown woman was dead.

"_Shit!_" Faith expressed both of their emotions quite eloquently as she put sudden realization into words. "She put it on. She actually put the damn glove on!"

Buffy nodded, but didn't reply as Post's voice sounded inside the car again.

"_Tauo freim!_"

Both Slayers flung themselves away in opposite directions as another burst of lightning crashed through the rear windshield.

* * *

_381181295019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Lily's House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Charlie groaned, and then almost jumped as he felt the sound roll slowly up from his diaphragm, through his throat and out of his mouth.

As it was, he was instantly glad he hadn't made the rapid movement of surprise, since every part of his body seemed to be complaining already.

Except for his feet, which he couldn't feel at all, so they were probably asleep.

The pins and needles feeling in his ankles could mean they _had_ been asleep, or maybe he'd caught them right before their 'eyes' had had the chance to close.

His calves felt tense, but not particularly pained; so they were also easily ignored.

His knees also felt tense, but so much so that he didn't want to risk moving them; sure that terrible pain would be the only result.

His thighs were suffering from the needles and pins' assault, too, and were also starting to cramp up. Which would've worried him much more if several other body parts weren't demanding his attention.

Exactly how he might've managed to bruise his butt while sitting on Lily's meditation rug was a mystery, but that's what it felt like: one big, unforgiving bruise that would allow no movement of any kind without considerable, painful protest.

His back was _screaming_. A still properly aligned mob of twenty-four vertebrae* and invertebral discs* all shrieking to be heard over the others. Resulting in a long, wailing line of incomprehensible agony where his back was supposed to be. (4)

His shoulders and arms felt like he'd just pulled himself up a mountain without any help from his lower body or any other aid. And that analogy only worked if he'd swum several miles ahead of time, also without his legs.

His neck was _almost_ the worst. As it claimed he'd been jerking it every which way: up and down, back and forth, all while gasping for air and screaming for help as he swam and climbed countless miles.

His face had certainly felt the screams; along with every other expression it could've been contorted into in between.

But his _head_. His head just wanted to _die_. Even as someone well used to completely incapacitating migraines, the level of miserable, nausea-inducing agony ringing through his head was a record of pointed pain he'd never imagined possible.

"Charlie?"

His name was called very, very softly. But he almost cried out in pain as it pounded through his ears before ricocheting around inside his horribly hurting head. The only thing that stayed his exclamation of pain was the part of him that'd been well-trained by far too many migraines. The part of him that knew noise and light were evil in any form when the faintest rays of light stabbed into his eyes and even his own breathing was much, much too loud for his poor ears and the even poorer head they were attached to.

But even the veteran migrainer couldn't suppress the gasp that forced its way out as his eyesight—inside his closed eyes—was suddenly filled with light. Light that didn't hurt at all. Even the gasp was only followed by a momentary jolt of pain, as it was quickly overcome by the wave of wonderful warmth that encompassed his whole body as the light filled his vision.

An all too short moment later the light faded, and the complete relief it'd brought with it.

"Dr. Eppes?"

This time the voice wasn't accompanied by overwhelming pain, so he was able to recognize it. Though he'd recognized the first enough to know that this one wasn't the same person.

"Dr. Eppes, you should be able to open your eyes now." Madam Ward's calm voice came a second time, and very strong but very, very slender fingers started massaging the back of his neck.

Charlie moaned as the massaging hand withdrew several moments later.

The old witch chuckled in response, a warm sound that reminded him of the warm light that'd engulfed him a moment before. "Open your eyes, young man."

No matter how much he didn't want to, in the relatively short time he'd known her, he'd decided Madam Agatha Ward was not someone to be disobeyed. So Charlie opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Madam Ward herself, her normally white hair somehow looking even whiter and _brighter_ than normal. In fact, the tiny old lady's entire body seemed bright. But not lit up like the crystals that Lily had set up earlier, which were still shining. No, she was suffused with a warm glow that made her look decades younger and drew your eyes to her. Her own crystal blue eyes, however, normally bright: were now shining.

"Welcome back, young one," the witch murmured, her voice still kindly, softy and warm. "Lily, he'll be needing that tea now."

Charlie was surprised, but didn't protest as a small porcelain cup was pressed against his dry lips. Instead he obediently opened his mouth as it was tipped back to pour a steaming but not-too-hot liquid into his very dry mouth. He almost grimaced as the strange, overly-sweet flavor registered, but instead moaned in relief as it flowed down his parched throat, aided by a hand that was gently coaxing his throat to swallow repeatedly. Which was a good thing, as he hadn't thought to swallow himself.

It was only as the empty cup was withdrawn that he noticed the four others in the room. Lily, who'd given him the extremely sweet tea and was eyeing him with no small amount or relief. Constance Westwood and Deborah Lincroft were sitting on either side of him, just behind the crystals Lily had placed there. Constance was by herself, behind the western crystal, the glowing blue crystal in front of her casting a blue hue over her whole form, making her skin look like it was a very pale blue and her red hair looked purple. The Lincroft siblings were sitting next to each other, with the yellow crystal between them, casting the same yellow shadow over their forms but not seeming to affect their dark hair and eyes. All three of the older mages were glowing softly, but nowhere near as much as Madam Ward was. And though the white streaks in the Lincroft siblings' dark hair were the most obvious, Constance's head also sported them.

"That infusion won't help for long, child," Madam Ward's voice called his attention back to her still subtly shining form. Though the green crystal was between Charlie and her, and glowing just as vividly as the blue one in front of Constance, the white light that seemed to be shining from inside the oldest witch's body easily outshone the pale green glimmer that might otherwise make her skin and hair both look green. "And our spell will be even more fleeting."

"But you said it'd help hold him in place—"

Madam Ward cut into Lily's panicked protest easily, somehow doing so without raising her voice at all. "That spell will stay in affect for several days, my daughter. But the first spell, cast to help ease him back into his body is already fading." She raised her fragile-looking hand to forestall any further protests. "Dr. Eppes must rest. We will talk more in the morning."

Apparently Lily, too, didn't dare disobey the old witch. Because she immediately bowed her head in silent acquiesce.

"I apologize in advance, child. This shall feel rather odd."

Charlie didn't get a chance to ask what 'this' was, as he suddenly found himself rising into the air, wincing as his blood rushed down his inside legs and into the very tips of his toes as he was pulled up by an unseen force.

He belatedly realized that it was the old witch's magic as she gestured gently towards Lily's nearby couch and he slowly floated over to it. He half-expected to be dropped there, but instead his feet rose into the air and his head fell back until he was floating horizontally over the couch. Even then, instead of dropping him the few inches in between him and the couch, the power moved around him. It pulled his blood into his hands as it made its way through his arms and out all the way to his fingertips. Then it rushed through the muscles of his back and shoulders, gently warming them.

She was right; it was a decidedly odd feeling to have something outside of your own control stretch your body out, no matter how gently it was done. The fact that she also seemed to be able to control his blood flow—without doing anything he could feel to his heart—made it all the stranger.

Finally she lowered—not dropped—him gently down on the comfortable couch's cushions.

"Sleep now, child. All will be well."

This time Charlie thought of nothing as his eyelids dropped down and he again saw nothing.

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**The edge of town, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Buffy winced as another tree exploded just a few feet away from her, having fallen victim to Post's maniacal use of the _Glove of Myhnegon_.

That was the fifth tree the Englishwoman had utterly destroyed while trying to hit the Slayers, who had to be very, very quick on their feet to avoid getting fried.

"Any ideas?" she called to her sister Slayer, personally unable to think of a way to get the glove from Post while the crazy woman was hiding behind the force field and trying to kill them. "'Cause I don't think she plans to come out until we're dead."

"_Tauo freim!_"

"Fresh out!" Faith shouted back, just before she was forced to leap further away as one of Post's bolts smashed into the ground she'd been standing on a second before.

One thing Buffy didn't understand about this was how exactly Post was attacking them with lightning. She was pretty sure that magic could only do so much with nature, and didn't lightning hit high points—like treetops or building-roofs? Or metal, which should bring all of her bolts right back towards the totaled car she was leaning against? (5)

"_Tauo freim!_"

But, then again, Buffy realized as she dodged out of the way of another bolt, one of the first spells Willow had mastered was one that allowed her to move light-weight objects with her mind, in complete defiance of gravity, which was a force of nature. So maybe nature and magic didn't always go hand-in-hand.

Still, the lightning Post was shooting at them was really, really _fast_. So getting anywhere close to the madwoman was more than a little dangerous.

"_Tauo freim!_"

Buffy didn't bother trying to dodge this time, since she and Faith were now far enough apart that Post had to pick which one of them she was going to aim for, and she'd picked Faith for that one.

"_Tauo freim!_"

But this one was headed for Buffy, so she quickly dodged to the side and backwards again, rolling away from the targeted area.

Thankfully, Post didn't seem to actually have conscious control of the lightning bolts. She couldn't make the lightning change its course once she'd sent it somewhere. She could only decide where—as in what _place_—it was going to strike, and that was that. Otherwise, Buffy and Faith would've been dead a good long while ago.

Although the alternating thing was kind of funny, especially since it was so _stupid_ on the Englishwoman's part. Predictable was never something you wanted to be in a fight. Acknowledgement of that simple fact had kept Buffy alive for a while now.

"_Tauo freim!_"

Spotting a fairly large rock rolling away from the spot Post had destroyed a second before, Buffy immediately went with the idea that popped into her head at the sight and quickly picked it up. It wasn't that heavy—not to a Slayer—but she still needed two hands to balance its slightly awkward bulk. Not that that mattered as she brought it back over her head and then chucked it at Post just as the woman looked back at her.

"_Tauo freim!_"

Buffy was already picking up another one, even as Post managed to blast the first out of the air. She let that one fly, too, and was glad when she saw Faith had caught onto the idea and was starting to hail Post with debris too.

After all, they already knew that the force field around the car couldn't stop flying rocks and hadn't stopped the car from crashing into a tree. So this was the easiest way to put Post on the defensive for a little while.

"_Tauo freim!_"

And just in the nick of time Buffy realized, as she threw another two rocks in rapid succession towards the ex-Watcher, and saw Cordelia's car speed around the last corner out of Sunnydale, which was not too far down the road.

Because Post saw them too, or at least, she saw the car coming towards them. But as long as she needed to use the glove defensively, to blast the rocks out of the air because—dodging, or even ducking were apparently things the power-crazy nut-job didn't do, so—she couldn't shoot at the new car.

"_Tauo freim!_"

Still, Buffy was more than a little happy when she saw the car pull of the side of the road a little ways down, its occupants obviously deciding that getting closer to the chaotic scene on Sunnydale's outskirts in a big, metal machine while Post was throwing around lightening couldn't be a good idea. She nodded again in approval as she distantly heard the Scoobies pile out of the car just after it was effectively out of sight. She suppressed a smirk as she threw another rock at Post, certain that they at least had brought the special-fire with them.

"_Tauo freim!_"

'_But,_' Buffy couldn't help but wonder even as she chucked yet another large rock, '_how are we supposed to get the glove away from Post and into the fire?_'

* * *

_23912121523019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**The edge of town, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Willow couldn't stop the surprised 'eep!' that jumped out of her throat as a bolt of lightning leapt away from the arm a familiar figure was pointing at Buffy, only to crash into something midair and explode instead. The comforting arm Oz had wrapped around her kept her from panicking further as her ever-calm boyfriend spoke up.

"Maybe we shouldn't drive much closer."

"Yeah, good idea," Xander immediately agreed from the front, turning to his girlfriend. "Cordy, pull off here."

"Where?"

"Here!"

"There's no pla—"

"Into the grass! Before we get to the trees!"

"OK! OK! Geesh!" Queen-C was shaking her head, though Willow was pretty sure she was just as wigged out as the rest of them. And she was probably more upset at the lightning-thing then her normally mild-mannered, goofy boyfriend raising his voice at her. "No need to get all grouchy."

Xander ignored her, instead turning back to the other Scoobies with a suitably worried expression fixed on his face. "OK, now what?"

Willow grimaced, "We've gotta get the _Living Flame_ to Buffy—"

Oz cut her off, "You two should stay here. Willow and I'll try to get one urn to Buffy or Faith."

"While we keep the second one in reserve," Xander nodded in understanding. "Gotchya," then he winced. "Can't say I like the idea of either of you not being able to make it to Buff, or of staying behind—"

"I'm fine with staying here," Cordelia threw her comment in. "Really."

Her boyfriend ignored her, nodding to them instead. "But it makes sense." He winced as another loud explosion slammed into their ears from far too close to the car. "Break a leg—except, don't. Please."

"Not acting here, but thanks." Willow shook her head as she slid out of the backseat, one of the two dangerous urns—that they probably shouldn't have been driving around with in the car—carefully balanced between her hands. Which were starting to shake, so she was more than a little relieved when her boyfriend appeared beside her and relieved her of the volatile burden. "Thanks."

Oz just nodded, as really was his way, and started heading towards the dangerous scene that was not too far away.

Willow followed, but not before she saw Xander coming behind her. She frowned at him, "Xand—"

"Cordy's got the other urn locked in the car with her. I'm just gonna watch, to make sure we don't need to bring it out."

Willow winced, "OK, but remember—"

"I'm the back-up. I know."

"You got it?"

Oz was the only one that didn't jump when Faith suddenly appeared amongst them, sweating much more then they were used to seeing either Slayer sweat, and with what looked like soot and dirt coating her clothes and all over her skin and hair. He just nodded, holding the urn towards her.

The brunette nodded back, before grabbing the urn herself. "Thanks. I'll get this to B." She started to turn, but then stopped, obviously rethinking her earlier statement. "You guys probably shouldn't get too close. Poppins is goin' beserker over there," she jerked her head towards the small smattering of trees that was the only thing that really blocked them from Post's sight. "She's mostly focused on us right now, and we should probably keep it that way."

The Scoobies nodded, not liking being excluded, but also well aware of the fact that they didn't have the supernatural abilities that were really needed to go head on with the supernatural. When the moon was full, Oz might be a threat to Post, but out of wolf-form he was only a little stronger and faster than he otherwise should be, though his senses were significantly better too.

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**The edge of town, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Buffy darted quickly down and around the hillside, only-just out of Post's sight as she hurried to reach the other Slayer's position, coming to a very abrupt stop after a running leap. "That the _Living Flame_?"

"Yup," Faith confirmed, nodding to the red urn she was carefully holding between both her hands. The urn itself wasn't even the size of one of her fists, but the ruby flames that were flickering out of it merited the caution. "They actually brought two."

"_Tauo freim!_"

Buffy blinked, and then shook her head, ducking down a bit as debris from a lightning strike not too far from them shot over their heads. "_What?_"

"They brought both of the two urns, just in case."

"Is the other one lit?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so—Yeah. I could see the light from the flame in the car. Cordy was guarding it."

Buffy shook her head again, more than a little incredulous. "Giles is gonna rip all four of 'em new ones when he gets out. Or worse, he'll lecture. For _hours_."

"_Tauo freim!_"

"Why?" Faith blinked, even as both ducked debris yet again.

"They shouldn't have even lit it before bringing it here, given how hard the stuff is supposed to be to control. Bringing it by car was bad en—" Buffy stopped, frowning as a wave of really warm amusement washed over her. She looked at Faith, but was sure that the younger Slayer was angry at Post, worried about everything going on and confused about what she was saying. Not amused. "What...?"

"B?"

"I sensed—" Buffy shook her head again as she kept looking around, "something."

"_Tauo freim!_"

"What? Like a vamp?" Faith looked around quickly, and then shook her head as they both ducked another shower of debris. "I'm not sensin' anything, B. And I think most vamps and demons 'd steer clear of Miss Lightning-Happy."

"No, not a vamp. Or a demon." Buffy shook her head once again, "It was something dif—"

"_Tauo freim!_"

An even louder blast from far too close to them drew her out of her stupor.

Buffy shook her head again, and nodded to their left, which was the direction away from both the town and their friends. "Let's go." She cut across the same ground on swift feet, Faith barely a step behind her all the way to the considerably sturdier incline Buffy had chosen to hide behind. Once there, she stopped to rest for only a moment before pulling herself up a bit to peek over the top of the mini-cliff.

Post was still looking towards their previous hiding place as she sent another bolt of lightning at it. "_Tauo freim!_"

"We need to get that thing off her," Buffy muttered as she dropped down again.

Fortunately the crazy Englishwoman could still only control the direction the lighting left the glove in, not where it went after the fact. So telephone poles, trees, bushes and road signs were bearing the brunt of her wrath for now. Thus both the Slayers and the Scoobies were safe for the moment.

"Not as much as we need ta stop her, B!" Faith shook her head again, then jerked it towards the town, her hands still kept very steady with the _Living Flame_ flickering up between them in little, bright bursts. "She could kill or maim any one of us real easy. And anyone that's stupid enough to drive out of or into town 'll probably be fried, too."

"I kn—"

"She almost killed Giles!" Faith bit her lip, her eyes shooting a glare in Post's general direction as she continued. "She's no better than Kakistos! Or Lothos!"

"_Tauo freim!_"

This time the lightning impacted closer to them again. Apparently they'd been heard, despite the distance and loud noise and madness that should be working in their favor.

Buffy stared at the brunette for a second, then her mouth settled into a firm line as she reached out and gently grabbed the girl's arm forcing her back around to face her as she replied. "She _is_ better, Faith. Kakistos and Lothos were vampires. Really nasty ones." She shook her head again. "And, yes. Post is nasty, too. But she's a nasty _human_. We don't hurt humans unless we have no other choice. And we do _not_ kill them."

"What choice? She—"

"There are few rules the Slayer really has to stick to, Faith. And none that feel more important deep down in my heart." Buffy pulled on Faith's arm again, jerking her down a little with the motion. "Stop. Breathe. _Think_. I know you've gotta feel it too."

A small wave of relief rushed through Buffy as she both saw and felt Faith comply.

No matter how angry or how justifiable Faith's outrage was, the younger Slayer could still control herself. She could control the ferocious will and drive of the Slayer, if she tried.

Buffy sighed as Faith opened her eyes a moment later, both seeing and feeling the uncertainty that was now mingling with the fear and fury that'd been the only thing's in that dark gaze a moment before. "We can't be responsible for human crimes, too, Faith. We've got more than enough responsibilities without that." She shook her head again, "And we're not dictators. We're champions."

Faith nodded slowly, "Protectors."

"_Tauo freim!_"

Both Slayers ducked again, even as Buffy nodded back.

"Not punishers. We—" Buffy stopped as another rush of amusement hit her, much more poignantly from Faith's direction again. She turned her head sharply to try and locate the source, only to fall backwards in surprise—her eyes wide—as she saw the flames that had been flickering before were now several feet high and steady, seeming to flow into pretty images and shapes above and around the urn. "What the—"

"Whoa!" Faith fell back, too, her hands flying away from the urn on reflex, as some of the flames had been flowing through the air less then an inch away from her skin.

Both Slayers could only watch in horror as the urn dropped towards the ground, _living flame_ enveloping it.

* * *

_619208019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**The edge of town, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Faith knew her eyes had to be wicked wide as she tried to scramble away from the rolling, coiling, ruby-red flames as the urn that controlled them hit the ground, shattering on impact and sending the flames out in a massive wave of surprisingly heat-less light. Not that she expected either she or Buffy would be able to escape the uncontrollable _living flame_ with the vessel that controlled it in useless shards.

But the start of an inferno didn't come.

The explosion of light that signaled the urn's destruction wasn't followed by the wave of an unstoppable firestorm.

Instead, the bizarrely rolling flames were still forming shapes and images in the air, with what sounded like a baby's laughter echoing out of it.

Faith looked over at Buffy, but the older Slayer looked just as bewildered as she herself was. "Is it... laughing?"

"Ye-Yeah," Buffy nodded slowly, her eyes as wide as Faith's own as she pushed herself off the floor, quickly dusting off her backside before she continued. "I think it is." She stared at the flames for a second, which seemed to still be laughing at them. Though now it sounded more like giggling that all-out laughter. "Hello? Can...Can you understand us?"

The giggling suddenly stopped, and the flames just as suddenly swirled towards Buffy, wrapping around her before flaring up again.

"_Buffy!_" Faith cried out, raising one hand before she remembered that reaching into the flames to pull her friend out probably wouldn't solve anything.

"It's alright!" the elder's voice came from inside the flames, which were now so bright that Faith could hardly bear to look at them. "I'm fine. It's not hurting me."

"It's not?" Faith stared at the flames, despite the tears that were dropping defensively from her eyes in response to the over-bright light.

"No, it…" Buffy paused, clear wonder in her voice. "It's _happy_."

The brunette blinked at that, and couldn't keep the surprised skepticism out of her voice. "The fire's happy?"

"Yeah, it's _amazing_. I've never felt anything like it."

"Fel—never mind." Faith shook her head sharply, sensing that this might be heading into the secret that Buffy and Charlie didn't seem to want anyone else to know about yet. The secret Faith herself wasn't entirely sure of, though she'd observed and heard a heck of a lot to make guesses with. "Can it let you go?"

Immediately the flames rolled back into thin cords again, which reached out to wrap around Faith, too. Seeing Buffy was smiling, completely relaxed in the fire's grasp, Faith forced herself to follow suit as the long cord of warm—but surprisingly not at all _hot_ or burn-inducing—fire wrapped around them. She started when it flared up, but it just as suddenly calmed.

Both Slayers then watched as the ruby-red flames dropped down to the ground by their feet, curling around the remains of the shattered _vivus urn_, which immediately began to glow like red-hot coals. And a moment later were no longer there.

In its place, the flames had taken the shape of a tiny feline body. A kitten, with what looked like a collar made of the same material as the urn, blinking up at them with bright-golden eyes.

"_Meow?_"

Both Slayers blinked, staring at the kitten-shaped flames that were now only glimmering softly, the body it'd chosen no larger then one of their fists. Just like a newborn kitten.

After a long moment of silence Faith just had to ask, "If you can take on any shape you want, why a _cat?_"

"_Hisssss!_" The kitten spat in response, making Faith take an instinctive step back.

"Faith," Buffy cut in, very obviously amused. "Don't make the fire-kitty mad." Then she turned her attention down to said 'fire-kitty', smiling down at it and continuing before Faith could respond. "You want to help us?"

"_Meow meow!_" The kitten nodded.

"Well now I'm rather disappointed."

Both Slayers started again, and then looked up sharply.

Post was no longer hiding behind the force field around her car. Instead she was sneering down at them, the ruinous glove pointed at them as she shook her head. "Three watchers between the two of you? Merrick. Dormer. Giles. And yet all it takes to distract you in the heat of combat is a stray animal? _Pitiful_." Post shook her head. "Do give my regards to all three in whatever after-life awaits you all. _Tau_—"

"_Hisssss!_"

Both Slayers stepped back again, their eyes wide as the fire-kitten exploded outward, the flames shooting up towards Post.

"_Gaaaahhh!_"

Post's agonized scream made both Slayers wince as her arm—or more specifically the glove on it—caught fire, instantly burning red-hot. In barely a second it became so hot it turned the vivid-blue that can sometimes be seen at the heart of a flame.

Then the ex-Watcher collapsed, falling out of their line of sight, though she kept shrieking in agony.

Faith glanced at Buffy, only to see that she'd already started scrambling up the rock face, where they could still hear Post's screams coming from and see the bright glimmer of the ferocious fire.

* * *

_41514019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**FBI Headquarters, Los Angeles, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Don blinked as a blurred reflection appeared on his computer screen, and raised an eyebrow as he glanced back to find his partner shaking his head at him. "I thought you were going clubbing?"

Cooper sighed as he spun his own chair around to drop down next to Don. "I was. But the idea of you working on a Saturday night wouldn't leave me alone." He paused, glancing very obviously at the clock in the corner of Don's screen, before shaking his head again. "And working past midnight on a weekend is a just a little nuts. The higher-ups find out about this, an' there's gonna be some more frowns comin' your way. And more mind-numbing busy-work for both of us."

"I haven't called anyone," Don shook his head. "And I'm not logging these hours. We're off the clock today and tomorrow, anyway. Well, yesterday and today. So it won't affect my performance."

"Obsession isn't a healthy thing."

"I'm not looking into Charlie's assault _or_ Sunnydale. Not really."

"No." Coop agreed, but his eyebrows were raised as he looked over the younger agent's shoulder again, "You're just researching a college professor who teaches part-time at Sunnydale University, and spends the rest of her time working with either the NSA or the military on who-knows-what." He shook his head, "That might be frowned on, too, you know."

"Walsh didn't tell me she was teaching in Sunnydale. Not that she is. Yet." Don jerked his head at the news article he'd found, "That's just an article saying that she's _going_ to be teaching a couple of classes there, starting during the next fall semester. Apparently she's pretty big news in her field."

"_Really?_ Now that's really surprising."

Don rolled his eyes at the sarcasm that was dripping from his partner's voice. "Apparently she brought a lot of big backers with her, too. 'Cause as soon as she agreed to teach there, Sunnydale University got some massive federal funding they weren't even asking for and most of the campus is being done-over. They're even adding a bunch of buildings on. _And_ they're going to be done in time for the summer semester."

"Everybody's crazy these days," Coop pointed out, and continued despite the exasperated look Don sent his way. "The blackmail that some shrinks have has gotta be amazing."

Don shook his head, deciding to ignore him and push on, "Do you want to know the really weird thing about all this, or do you just want to keep mocking my work?"

"I'm not mocking your work; I'm mocking your unhealthy obsession. There's a difference," then the older agent cocked his head to the side in thought, before asking, "There's really something so weird in all of this that it stands out above all the rest of it?"

"The University is glad to have Dr. Walsh and even gladder for the increased federal funding and the construction. Sunnydale's mayor, on the other hand, has been fighting Walsh's patrons' every step of the way."

"Huh. OK, that is a little weird too." Coop shook his head, "What is he, one of those really old-fashioned, keep everything the way it always has been kind of guys?"

"That's what he's spouting in opposition to all the improvements," Don paused to spin his chair back around to face the computer, clicking on a few of the minimized boxes to bring up some of the other news articles he'd found. "But I looked him up a bit, too. And he's been all about reform and advancement for his entire career." He frowned as he looked over some of the dates on the news articles. "Which looks like a really long time. Since he was the Mayor twenty years ago."

"That is weird." Coop agreed, before grabbing his shoulder to spin him back around, away from the computer. "But researching Sunnydale's mayor does count as researching Sunnydale. The town the higher-ups don't want us looking at."

Don rolled his eyes, "You don't think it's weird that the same guy," he forced his way back around to point at a slightly blurry picture of Mayor Richard Wilkins, who barely looked forty in the fairly recent photo, "That guy, has been the Mayor of Sunnydale for more than twenty years?"

"I said I thought it was weird, didn't I?" Coop forced him to turn around again. "I just don't want ta be doing paperwork twenty-four-seven for the next few years of my career. And if you want to go anywhere, you don't either."

Don sighed, looking away for a moment, before nodding. "OK," he turned back around just in time to see Coop x-out of all of the news articles that focused on the Mayor, then frowned as he didn't close the one focusing on Dr. Walsh herself. "Coop?"

"Walsh isn't really a shrink anymore, is she? Says here she's been teaching at a bunch of different places since she published a couple of books." The slightly older agent smirked, shaking his head as he closed the final article. "Maybe something you should talk to your genius-kid-brother about, huh? Since he's goin' into teachin'?"

Don grimaced, and then glared. "You're really _not_ helping, Coop."

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**The edge of town, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Buffy all-but flew over the edge of the cliff when she finally reached the top. Though it'd taken her, and Faith behind her, barely a few seconds, by the time they were there the fire had already done its job.

Post was lying there on the ground, her eyes closed in unconsciousness but her face contorted in agony. The glove was gone, and Post's arm with it.

And the so-called 'fire kitty' was now strutting towards the two Slayers, its head held high with its tail flickering back and forth over its sashaying rear.

"Whoa," Faith stopped beside her, and Buffy could sense the brunette was just as surprised as she was. "OK. No making the fire-kitty mad." Buffy glanced at her just in time to catch her sharp nod, "Check."

"_Meow meow meow!_" the kitten nodded, it's golden eyes closed and mouth set in an expression that Buffy couldn't label as anything other than a smile, especially not with the warm contentment and satisfaction rolling off the fiery feline. Then it cocked its red head to the side as its golden eyes opened a moment before it crouched down a bit and suddenly leapt at Faith.

"Whoa!" Faith almost made the mistake of stepping backwards off the cliff in surprise, but caught herself at the last second. She just barely caught the little creature at the same time with one arm, which it immediately settled its back-paws on, it's front paws settling just above her chest as it stretched up towards her face to lick her chin with a tiny tongue. Faith giggled—actually giggled—smiling widely as she pushed the feline back down into the crook of her arm, before running a few gentle fingers over its tiny head. "Wow, B, you gotta feel this. Her fur's wicked soft!"

Buffy smiled slightly as she reached out a hand and gently started scratching the side of the fire-kitty's head. Like Faith had said, the creature's now dull-red strands of 'fur' were as smooth as silk, and softer than the super-soft baby blanket her mom had sent to one of her cousins a year before when the rarely-seen relative had had a baby. She shared a smile with her sister-Slayer as a quiet, whirring purr rolled out of the little creature's chest.

"Buffy! Faith!"

Both Slayers turned towards Xander's voice, to see three of the four Scoobies running towards them. Willow, Oz and Xander came to a stop a moment later, the first and last staring down at Post's still form, which Oz only spared a glanced before looking up and raising an eyebrow at the fire-kitty.

"What happened?" Willow asked, shaking her head as she kept staring down at Post, her skin turning a little green as her eyes remained glued on the charred stump just off of the older woman's shoulder. "We heard a horrible scream, an—"

"New friend?" Oz cut his girlfriend off, making both of the slightly green Scoobies jerk their heads up to see what he was talking about.

Immediately the slightly-green look left Willow's face as she smiled brightly and moved towards them, holding her hand out in front of the 'cat' near it's head. "Ooh it's a kitty!" she exclaimed, only to frown a moment later when the 'fire kitten' just looked at her. "What's wrong, kitty? I won't hurt you! Can't you smell I'm a nice person like most—"

"Uh, Willow," Xander cut her off, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I think it's a demon-cat."

Willow's hand dropped down to her side as she glanced back at her best friend since kindergarten, her eyes wide. "Wh-Wha—?"

"She's not a demon!" Faith interrupted, frowning at Xander as the fire-kitty stopped purring to look over at Xander, its golden eyes not quite as bright as before. When all three Scoobies looked at her, the younger Slayer shifted uncomfortably, holding one hand up to shield the little cat from their gaze as she looked at Buffy. "She's not, right? She doesn't feel—"

"Evil. No, she doesn't." Buffy nodded, and then sighed softly as she met her friends' bewildered gazes. "Actually, she's the _Living Flame_ you guys brought us."

"Wha—" Willow stopped as Buffy shook her head.

The oldest Slayer gestured towards Post. "We should probably get her to a hospital. We can talk about this later." She knelt down beside Post, easily sliding her arms under the older woman's shoulders and knees, and then standing with just as much ease. Even at somewhere over a hundred-fifty pounds, the weight was nothing to a Slayer. "Come on," she started walking in the direction she knew Cordelia had parked.

"Umm, Buffy?" Xander's hesitant voice stopped her.

Buffy sighed, before turning back to raise an eyebrow at him. "Yeah?"

"How're we supposed to get her there? I mean, Cordelia's the only one of us that can drive, and I don't think she'll be willing to drive Miss TNT."

Buffy blinked again, "TNT?"

"Tweed-N-Thunderbolts," the tallest brunette clarified, grinning as everyone stared at him, though Faith would probably be grinning too if Xander hadn't insulted the fire-kitty a few seconds earlier. "What? It fits! She was even making all sorts of stuff blow up a few minutes ago!"

Buffy rolled her eyes, and shook her head. "The glove's gone, she doesn't have any powers like that now and she's not gonna wake up anytime soon anyway. Now let's—" she stopped abruptly as another problem occurred to her, biting her lip as she thought about it. Then she sighed again, "Oz? Could you do me a favor?" she waited for the slight tilt of his head that meant acknowledgement before continuing. "Post had a partner she blasted away from the car 'bout a half-hour ago." She jerked her head in the direction away from town. "Somewhere over there. Can you go check to see if we need to get her to the hospital, too?"

"Sure," Oz nodded, quickly moving off in said direction.

"We'll be over by Cordelia's car," Buffy called after him, before nodding to the others again. "Let's go."

It only took a few moments to reach the open road, to see Cordelia's car coming towards them.

Buffy shook her head in mild amusement, but nodded her thanks when the other girl stopped just a few feet away, waiting for Willow to open the back door of the car before moving to carefully place Post in side. She thought for a second about trying to restrain her, but one look at the miniscule remains of the woman's arm nixed that idea. She glanced back at the others after she closed the car door. "I'll ride to the hospital with them. You think you guy's will be OK?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she finished.

"We'll be fine, B," Faith assured her immediately, "Whoa—Hey!" She cried out in surprise as the little kitten that'd been settled, snug and secure in her arms suddenly pushed off her chest, to land just a few feet from the car.

A few feet that the little creature quickly bounded over, before slipping in between Buffy's legs to jump into the car, where Cordelia also gave a surprised exclamation.

"What the—!" The nervous girl glanced out at them, confusion clear on her face. "Where'd that thing come from?"

Buffy sighed, shrugging as she watched the wide golden eyes of the little creature close in an expression of clear contentment after it'd curled up inside the other _vivus urn_, apparently settling into the other _living flame_ for a nap. "She was the other _living flame_. Now she's a cat, I guess." Then she glanced down the road again, watching as Oz jogged back to them.

The werewolf shook his head.

Buffy sighed. She hadn't really expected the woman to have survived Post's attack, but it would've been nice. "Alright. I'll see you guys at the hospital."

"You're not gonna actually check her in, are you?" Faith was frowning, clear concern radiating off her as she asked, "Won't that just make trouble for us?"

Buffy shook her head again. "No. I've brought some people into the ER before. Never had any trouble," she shrugged. "A few funny looks at first, yeah. But I've saved most of the doctors and nurses once or twice, so they don't give me much trouble." She waited for Faith's relieved nod, before turning to walk around the car frowning as something else caught her attention.

Post's lightning had downed trees and telephone polls; set both bushes and trees aflame and left craters and debris all over the place. But Sunnydale's welcome sign was still standing. Brightly colored enough to be considered gaudy, the stupid sign somehow sat just inside Post's range of destruction, completely untouched.

"Buffy?" Willow asked hesitantly, forcing the Slayer out of her irritated musings. "Shouldn't you guys be going?"

The blonde felt her lips twist up a little bit in irritation, but she forced herself to look away from the evil sign. Towards her friends, who were watching her worriedly. "Hey Faith?"

"Yeah B?" Faith was curious, but also a little amused, obviously having figured out what the older slayer was irritated by.

"What's your opinion on destruction of public property?"

"What? Like graffiti?" Faith gave a short laugh, shaking her head. Then she shrugged. "It's illegal, but I've done it a couple a times. Why?"

Buffy shook her head, pointing towards the evil sign. "I _really_ hate that sign."

"Buffy!" Willow burst out, her eyes wide. Though Buffy was a little surprised to sense that the redhead was concealing very real amusement under the expected outrage. Oz, of course, was physically unreadable, but like Xander, Cordelia and Faith, he was just as amused. "You can't do anything to Sunnydale's sign! It's—"

"Really ugly." Buffy interrupted, shaking her head. "And evil."

"It's just a sign!" Willow protested, shaking her head. Her amusement really was very well hidden, though the outrage wasn't completely fake either. "And it's the town's—"

"It makes it look like Sunnydale's a nice, safe, sunny place and it's not!"

"I'm with the Buffster on this, Will," Xander spoke up before Willow could reply, shaking his head. "It's evil."

His girlfriend backed him up, having rolled down her car window some time before. "I'm inclined to agree. That shade of yellow is so passé. What?" she shook her head when everyone looked at her. "It is!"

Faith laughed again, "We'll handle it, B."

Willow sighed, but didn't protest again. "And I'll make sure someone finds, um, Jane Doe's body soon, I guess." It was something the redhead had done several times before, though Buffy had never asked how. She'd just report people she'd failed to protect and the police generally found the body the next day. Since the Sunnydale PD weren't remotely their friends, Buffy was pretty sure Willow didn't report it, and suspected their was some kind of hacking involved. But again, she'd never asked, just gotten used to it being something the crafty redhead could take care of for them.

Buffy nodded, "Thanks." Then she hopped right over the car's hood, landing easily on the other side, and immediately opened the car door and slid into the passenger's seat, accepting the other active _vivus urn_ from Cordelia before the brunette took the car out of park, turned it around and headed back into Sunnydale.

The slayer glared at the sign on the way by.

Hopefully that problem would be fixed soon too.

* * *

_381181295019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Lily's House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Charlie winced as his elderly savior and now discipliner drew her lecture to a close. When a ping of slightly amused impatience hit him through the silence that followed, he licked his lips before replying. "I am sincerely sorry for my actions, Madam. I didn't mean to inconvenience any—"

"_Inconvenience?_" Ward cut him off, shaking her head in poignant irritation. "Don't be a fool, boy! Our coming to your rescue wasn't the problem. It was you so carelessly putting yourself in need of being rescued!"

Charlie looked down, slowly moving one very sore arm and shoulder to bring his hand up to his forehead to try and rub the persistent ache that'd been there since he'd woken up. "An—Buffy was in trouble." He licked his dry lips again, and letting his hand drop back down to his side, before continuing, "I wanted to help."

"We understand that, Charlie," Constance spoke up before Ward could, her voice soothingly gentle in contrast to the irate old lady's quiet temper. Though the worry that was rushing off of her was no less then everyone else was feeling in the room, either. "But surely you know Buffy would never want you to endanger yourself in such a way."

"I'm sure the Slayer wouldn't want him to endanger himself at all," Richard commented, his tone supremely mild, before taking a sip of his tea.

"No, I'm sure she wouldn't," Charlie agreed with a sigh, only just stopping himself from shaking his head in exasperation as he continued. "But I can't sit back and do nothing when she needs help!" He winced as his own too-loud words rumbled through his still sore brain.

"Charlie," Deborah spoke up this time, her dark eyes intent as she caught his gaze. "We're _not_ saying that you shouldn't help where you can. But you have to recognize your own limits." She raised a hand to forestall his protest when he opened his mouth, shaking his head even as her eyes never left his own. "Having never consciously exercised your astral form before, without the bond you share with the Slayer you would've been able to do nothing. You weren't able to move your form of your own free will, were you?"

"I…" Charlie blinked, frowning slightly at her observation. "I could direct my sight," after a few seconds under the eyes of all four powerful mages, he wilted. "A little." He licked his lips again. "A-And I think I was kind of controlling where I went."

"Oh?" Deborah raised an eyebrow at him.

Charlie nodded slightly, wincing as his head protested yet again, but continuing anyway. "I-I think that whenever I concentrated on something my, um, my astral form moved to it. Kind of."

"That's not quite how it works," Madam Ward spoke up again. She sighed when Charlie looked hesitantly over towards her, shaking her head slightly. "First and foremost, your astral form obeys the whims of your subconscious mind. So yes, whenever you desired something deep down, if your subconscious picked up on it, it could have sought to fulfill that desire. Particularly with the separation spell working to help your conscious and subconscious mind connect."

"That's how dream-walking and some forms of foresight work," Constance interjected, continuing after she took another sip of her tea. "For the most part, at least. While your conscious mind sleeps, after it is suitably rested itself, your unconscious mind is free to wander. Sometimes even outside of your body."

Deborah continued, "Deliberate astral projection and chemically induced dream-walking are obviously not quite the same thing, but they're generally bound by the same rules." She shook her head, as she watched him carefully raise his own mug of tea up to his mouth to take a slow sip, "It's not something you should've tried at all, but even more so with your mind so ill-at-ease and fatigued."

Charlie sighed as he set his mug back down. "Why does my head, my neck, my back—my whole body, actually—hurt so much?"

"You were thrashing around a lot," Lily spoke up, her voice barely audible from where she'd curled up on the opposite end of the couch from him. "For at least an hour. You only stopped after Madam Ward cast a spell on you when they first got here."

"I blocked the connection between your conscious mind and your body for a short time," Madam Ward explained when Charlie looked at her. At his surprised look, she shook her head. "Another very real danger of astral projection is the considerable amount of damage you can do to your physical body without being aware of it. Until you can distinctly recognize and directly command your astral form—a level of control that some people never reach—your physical body will respond to most of the commands you try to give your astral form without success."

"And you used up a lot of energy," Constance interjected. At the slightly confused look Charlie shot her, she smiled, shaking her head again mildly. "How big do you think Sunnydale is, Charlie?"

Charlie, of course, had no trouble remembering the exact area of the town. He'd researched it only a few weeks ago to see if Oz could have killed the boy that was brutally murdered the night Xander fell asleep while watching over Oz's werewolf form. "The town-proper is a little more than twenty-five-point-five-seven square-kilometers or fifteen-point-eight-nine square-miles*. Why?" (6)

"And it's more then a hundred miles away from here, isn't it?"

Charlie nodded slowly, "About one-hundred-thirty-two miles, yes. Why?"

"Hundreds of miles, and practically instantaneous motion." Constance shook her head. "Did you really think that would be possible without the use of some kind of energy? Energy at your body's disposal? And since you don't really know how to draw power from the Earth on your own, your body had to make due with what it had."

Charlie blinked again, frowning slightly. "I… No, I guess I really didn't think of that."

"Magic always has a price, child," Madam Ward spoke up again, now sounding more tired then angry. "_Always_. And it is not a toy."

"In ancient times, magic was trusted as a reliable means of explaining the world, much as science is now," Richard spoke up again, his voice impressively impartial. "Today, it is often contrasted against both religion and science, and thereby frequently devalued."

Charlie frowned in confusion, "Why is that? If magic was so prevalent for so long, as most myths seem to indicate, why did it fall out of favor?"

"It's not for everybody. Not everyone can do it." Richard shook his head. "It may take years of study and a certain degree of aptitude for one to become a scientist of any kind, but really anyone can understand the basics."

"And not everyone can understand the basics of magic?" Charlie's frown only deepened at that, and he only just managed to not shake his head. He could apparently get away with nodding but shaking his head was something both his head, neck and shoulders heavily discouraged. "That doesn't make any sense. Maybe casting actual spells is something not everyone can do, since it takes a lot of practice, a lot of work. But understanding the basics isn't that hard. It's just logic, mostly."

"Yes," Madam Ward agreed, smiling slightly. "But how many people in this world are really all that logical?" She shook her head when Charlie blinked. "The young Slayer saves people from vampires and demons all the time, and most of them don't remember it after the fact. At least not unless they're forced to. And that's a very common reaction to the supernatural. Though it isn't at all logical."

"Most don't want to know what's out there so very desperately that their own subconscious suppresses the knowledge." Constance continued mildly. "Leaving them only with vague impressions of danger: it's more dangerous outside at night then it is during the day."

"But wouldn't it be far more logical to remember the threat itself, so that one knows what they're afraid of and how to protect oneself from it?" Deborah finished.

Charlie nodded again, still frowning. "Yes, it would." Then he blinked, "But by that logic, the people that are best suited for magic are scientists! Or at least logicians, like me."

"The best suited to understanding it, yes," Madam Ward agreed, before stopping to take another sip of her tea, while Constance continued for her.

"But not everyone who understands magic or—more importantly—how magic _works,_ can actually make it work to their level of understanding."

"Because our brain isn't used to that particular function? Or anything remotely like it, really?" Charlie asked curiously, his frown having slipped into a more thoughtful, pursed-lip look. "That's why I can't astral project, right? My mind isn't used to controlling that form."

"You could say that, I suppose," Madam Ward nodded again. "Though in order for scientists to really be accepted by society they have to define themselves far apart from magic, so there hasn't been all that much scientific research in the area."

The frown returned to the genius's face at the observation. Although the scientist in him _had_ been more than a little blown away, maybe even aghast, when Annie had first introduced him to the supernatural, he was still fairly certain that it was also that side of his personality that hadn't been willing to ignore the details. That hadn't been willing to just forget, that'd needed answers. No matter how horrifying or strange said answers turned out to be.

But really, that was the part of him that he'd previously always assumed made him a good mathematician. A good scientist.

The part of him that simply couldn't see waves swelling up to mighty heights and then crashing down on forgiving shores without also seeing it in the terms of fluid dynamics and mechanics. He couldn't see the waves without contemplating the tremendous exertion of energy that led to the waters constantly moving state.

His brain automatically estimated the speed the waves were moving at, and his 'guesses' were always a lot closer then most other peoples were, save for if he was estimating against someone who'd been reading waves for years and years.

The same part of him that couldn't see a beautiful building without seeing geometric shapes, harmonics, proportions and ratios.

Or light shimmering over the semi-reflective surface of a picturesque pond without immediately calculating the refractive index of the water in that pond. (7)

Honestly he'd never really understood why most people didn't seem interested in such things. Even his family had really only tolerated the endless calculations because Charlie was so enthralled by it. And all three of the Eppes had different limits.

Don could feign interest in math when it helped him finish his homework—maybe these days he'd tolerate it for work in general—and he'd occasionally been honestly interested in Charlie's numerous analyses of baseball and others sports or games. As those analyses could occasionally be a big help on winning games or placing good bets. Not that Don had asked for any help with betting after the time their mom had caught them discussing it. Though Charlie couldn't really blame him, as gambling was one of their mother's few pet peeves and boy had she been pissed to hear them talking about it. Even though they weren't really betting any large amount, or betting on anything dangerous or illegal.

The eldest Eppes male couldn't really follow Charlie into the higher level maths, but had always been willing to at least try. And, again, when Charlie had really focused in on his father's areas of expertise: primarily construction, their father definitely saw the benefits and it'd resulted in some interesting debates.

His mother had, of course, done everything possible to make herself interested in anything and everything Charlie ever wanted to talk about it. Furthermore, she was the one that'd been primarily responsible for Charlie's education. Alan Eppes had certainly been involved with all the discussion and final decisions, but it was Margaret Eppes that'd done all the research, met regularly with all the tutors and later teachers. She was the one that knew at least the basics of what he was learning and when. And she was the one that could generally guess where his mind was going to wander to next. So that was where the reading she did in most of her free time tended to focus.

Occasionally, Charlie managed to surprise her. But she never took offense at it. Just asked him to slow down and explain more of it to her, then she'd later go do a bit more research herself before bringing it up again when she knew enough to actually talk about it.

So his mother was interested in math. But she was interested in it because he was, for his sake. Not because she really wanted to know how every little thing in this world worked. Where the water that dropping down onto their heads had been previously. Or how far away each and every star was.

No, it was when he went off to school that he started to really meet people that were interested in math for math's sake. Interested in physics because it was interesting. It was in books of science that he read the thoughts of people who shared his interests: mathematicians, physicists and scientists.

The idea that these people—his peers—could ignore something just because they didn't like it understandably horrified him.

You _didn't_ ignore a variable if it didn't work with your equation. Your equation was supposed to describe the real world, as determined by the data you gathered to measure it. You couldn't gather reams of data and then pick and choose which pieces of data you wanted and which ones you didn't. You reconfigured the equation to fit the data, not the other way around.

"Charlie? Are you okay?"

Lily's worried voice pulled the troubled scientist out of his thoughts, and he looked around to see that all of the mages were looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Though Madam Ward seemed to have an understanding look fixed on her ancient face.

"I'm sorry," Charlie began, licking his lips as he found they were inexplicably dry again. "I guess my mind wandered," he chuckled softly, careful not to let the sound actually move his aching body, but every muscle still seemed to screech anyway. "You'd think that with all the wandering my mind was doing a few hours ago, it would've learned its lesson, but—"

"It's not quite the same thing," Madam Ward replied, a small smile making her aged face look years younger, the kindness and warmth that was almost always present in her pale blue-gray eyes obvious again as her stern annoyance faded. "And it's understandable."

"Yes," Richard agreed, also smiling warmly. "One would think that at least some scientists would be observant and logical enough to notice the supernatural, but that just doesn't seem to be the truth."

"What about The Balance?" Lily asked curiously, making Charlie frown at her as the capitalized phrase was one that Annie had mentioned several times before in annoyance. An annoyance he, himself, shared as he honestly couldn't make sense of it. "Could that be affecting them? Like it affects most people after they, um, after they come into contact with the supernatural, I guess?"

Richard nodded, taking a sip of his steaming tea—his was still much hotter than the rest of theirs, with the steam still rising steadily off of it, since he never added anything to it—before he replied. "Many believe that that might be the case. After all, it was truly a formal, magically binding agreement between the Powers of both Good and Evil, as it were. In the absence of the formal diplomatic relations that'd kept The War in check for so long before—"

"Diplomatic relations?" Charlie interrupted, unable to let that phrase pass by without an explanation. After all, as ludicrous as it was to think of 'Good' somehow coming to an agreement of sorts with 'Evil,' the idea that demons and humankind had coexisted in a way that was somewhat similar to how most modern nations did now was more than a little mind-boggling.

"Oh yes," Richard nodded again, a small smile indicating he didn't really mind the interruption.

But then again, history seemed to be the man's favorite hobby, so lecturing about it probably wasn't something he'd ever really mind at all. It was something that'd frequently made both Annie and, to a slightly lesser extent, Charlie consider introducing the mage to Dr. Giles.

"For millions of years—as long as our dimension has existed, at least, probably longer—the demonic races gathered once every century to resolve conflicts betwixt themselves. To negotiate various agreements: treaties on trade, land, minor wars and even the War with Humanity, which was certainly one of the major issues they discussed. But the primary focus was the fact that all—even the most belligerent and hostile demonic races—agreed that war amongst themselves was not conductive to their continued existence. Whether they were interested in eradicating humanity from the globe or not." (8)

Charlie licked his too-dry lips again, before replying softly. "I guess that makes sense. Kind of. Though not as much so for the forces of, um, Good to allow, assuming they were all interested in protecting us. Humanity, I mean."

This time Constance continued, "Actually, there are hundreds of demonic species that have no real problem with humanity and don't mind sharing the world with us. Some even preferred the idea of humanity controlling the Earth."

Charlie couldn't help but blink at that, but this time it was Lily who cut in, clear skepticism ringing through her voice.

"_Really?_"

Constance chuckled before continuing, her soft smile somehow drifting out on her voice as she did so. "Really." She shook her head. "I know neither of you have really studied demonic lore, myths or history. But you do understand that demons essentially ruled the Earth before humanity managed to drive most of the more powerful demons out and eventually came to dominate this dimension as a whole, yes?"

Charlie nodded slightly, very slowly, but wasn't able to stop the wince that rose when his neck complained at the motion via several sharp stabs of pain up his spine. But he ignored them in favor of continuing the discussion. "Yes. I believe the Slayer at that time drove them out?"

Richard laughed, and his smile stretched as he shook his head. His amusement continued to echo through his tone as he replied. "That is how the Watchers Council tells it, yes. Though really that's quite an exaggeration." At the surprised look that Charlie obviously wore, the older man shook his head. "Really, Dr. Eppes. If you think about it, doesn't the idea of one Slayer driving out every greater demon off of every continent and out of every ocean seem a bit far fetched to you?"

Charlie blinked again, his brilliant mind—while still rather sore and tired was still—easily able to run through dozens of scenarios in response to the question. And each one only confirmed the mage's point of view.

The idea that a single individual could have somehow track down and demolished each and ever major demon—many of whom, according to Dr. Giles, had been comparable to dinosaurs in size—was highly implausible. Even if scientists were somehow wrong about how far back in time humanity came into existence, and they'd—and thus the Slayer—had been around when the supercontinent * was still in existence, which was highly unlikely, it'd still be far too much land for one woman to cover. Not to mention that even if the Slayer hadn't needed to worry about crossing bodies of water to hunt down demons on other continents, many could of still easily been lurking in the depths of the Panthalassa * that would've been nearly impossible for a prehistoric woman, no matter how superly-empowered, to reach. (9) (10)

The only way one Slayer could have really managed it was if all the demons had come to her, perhaps in one massive battle. But against such odds one Slayer would've surely failed.

"So it obviously took several different slayers a long time to get rid of all the demons, right?"

"Along with countless demon wars and many more treaties," Richard replied, pausing for a second to finish off his tea before setting his empty mug on a nearby table as he continued. "None made by the Slayers, of course. But really between the demons and between the Powers."

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**General Hospital, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Buffy couldn't suppress a small giggle as she watched Giles and the fire-kitty stare at each other, blue-human-eyes locked with fiery-golden through the thick glasses genetics and probably too much reading forced the watcher to wear. The bright red tail flipped back and forth in lazy satisfaction as the fire-kitty refused to break eye contact with the injured, older man.

Finally, Giles shook his head and broke the staring contest. "Fascinating," he murmured, and Buffy was pleased to sense that while the bright-red-and-golden-eyed creature's appearance had certainly surprised the watcher, he wasn't at all afraid of it. Mainly because Faith had grown very attached to the cute little thing over the few hours they'd been at home last night, mostly to catch a few Zs before returning to check on Giles and Post.

And to make a phone call Buffy wasn't entirely sure was a great one to make, but since Post was an ex-Watcher calling the watchers only made sense. Though why Giles had given her mother the phone number to reach Quentin Traverse—the Council's Head—at, she didn't know.

Still, while Buffy and Joyce found the little fire—but-no-longer-burning—creature adorable, it was Faith that had really taken to the cute little thing. So it was good to know that they wouldn't have to get rid of it, even though Giles hadn't said as much yet.

"I had heard of creatures being born of _Living Flame_ before," the watcher continued, cocking his head to the side before wincing as it protested and carefully shifting it back. "But none of those myths had reliable data for confirmation."

"What is it?" Willow asked hesitantly.

Giles blinked, but obliged the redhead, looking over the little thing's head to answer her. "A _fireling_ is, I believe, the correct term. _Living Flame_ itself is, as the name suggests, alive. In that it does have a certain amount of sentience. But the circumstances for it to take a stable form have never been truly determined and verified."

Buffy cocked her head to the side a little, thinking a moment before she continued. "It was laughing," she told the Englishman, smiling slightly as the little creature they were focused on finally turned away from Giles and leapt into Faith's arms again. "Before we broke the urn. The fire was laughing."

"It was happy," Faith recalled, glancing momentarily at Buffy as she did so, before looking back at Giles.

"Happy?" the Watcher repeated, one eyebrow rising. "How do you mean?"

Faith radiated a little nervousness for a moment, but then the little creature in her arms started purring, and her nervousness seemed to abate as she brought one hand up to scratch behind its ear. "I don't know how, I just knew it was happy when it started acting up. It was making all sorts of shapes in the air when I dropped the urn, and it kept doing that even after the urn was destroyed."

"That's when it started laughing, too," Buffy nodded in agreement, before reaching out to run a gentle hand down the fire-kitty's surprisingly soft, silky back.

"I see," Giles thought about that for a moment, watching as both Slayers smiled down at the _fireling_, before nodding. "You've grown attached to it—"

"_Her_," Faith cut in abruptly, and then blushed slightly as she realized what she'd just done, clear surprise quickly taking the place of the embarrassment.

Giles raised an eyebrow again, but nodded ever-so-slightly. "Both of you have grown attached to her in a rather short period of time."

Buffy frowned slightly, but didn't stop petting the purring creature as she replied. "Yeah, I guess." Then she shook her head, "But she did save our lives, you know."

"Without killing Post," Faith agreed, nodding slightly. Only to grimace at the startled looks several of the Scoobies sent her way.

After a moment of silence, Willow spoke up hesitantly, "Killing Post?"

"I thought Slayers didn't kill people," Cordelia complained, frowning as she inched a little away from the two supernaturally-empowered young women. "Just monsters."

"We _don't_ kill humans," Buffy replied, unable to stop her tone from coming out a little short. Then she sighed, looking a little guiltily over towards her Watcher. "But there were a few seconds there where we thought we might have to."

Giles face was impassive for several moments as he watched both of them, undoubtedly reading the guilt in their expressions easily. Then he nodded, "I will not lie. I am quite relieved that it did not come to that, as it understandably could have," he sighed. "But once Post put the glove on, in the Council's eyes, at least, her life was well and truly forfeit. While they might've investigated her death, you would not have been punished for it. Not by them."

Buffy blinked, frowning slightly as she withdrew her hand from petting the fiery feline, "Not by them?"

"Well, I've no doubt your own conscious would trouble each of you after the fact." The Watcher replied, his voice supremely gentle and his eyes kind. "In fact, history has proven that Slayers are rarely able to survive taking a human life." He sighed, "Many believe that it is a curse the Powers-That-Be added onto the Slayer line, to rein it in. But I have always been of the opinion that, however the Slayer is really Called, all are heroes. All have those instincts before their Calling. Compassion. Protectiveness. Selflessness. Whether the Powers deliberately test them beforehand or not, I don't believe they'd ever Call the kind of person that is capable of taking a human life in cold blood. Of course, it undoubtedly helps that you're all very young when you're Called. Still innocent in a way those of us ten or twenty years your senior cannot be."

Buffy blinked again, "You think we're more innocent then most other people?" she shook her head yet again. "But Giles, most people don't go out on patrols—hunting dangerous monsters—almost every night. They don't have to. They can remain ignorant of...of everything. They don't have to kill one big bad of some kind every month, at least."

"No, they don't," Giles agreed mildly, then smiled softly. "But really, most of those people, even if they had this duty and knowledge of the consequences of failure thrust upon them as you have, would not necessarily put the fate of others, of all mankind even, ahead of their own happiness. And most of those that could be forced into protecting humanity for the sheer reason that to not do so means the end of the world, would still be tempted to abuse their powers. It is a rare person indeed that can escape such failings."

Buffy looked away, not entirely sure of what to say in response to that or the warm emotions—affection, compassion and maybe pride—radiating off of the Watcher.

After a moment of silence, Giles spoke up again. "Now you say the _fireling_ came into being after your discussion of this possibility?"

Buffy blinked yet again, but turned her eyes back to her Watcher's quickly, replying even as she shook her head. "No. I mean, I don't think so. The fire definitely started acting weird around then, but—"

"But it didn't turn into a kitten until after I dropped the urn," Faith cut in, wincing as she belatedly recalled the terror that'd rushed through both of them at the sight of the magical device's imminent destruction the night before. Then she frowned in thought, "But you said you sensed something before that, didn't you, B?" she asked, glancing curiously at the older Slayer.

Buffy nodded slowly as everyone's eyes returned to her. "Yeah, I did. Didn't know what it was, but I definitely sensed something while we were talking."

"Still, I rather think that your discussion, as well as the understandably charged atmosphere you brought the _living flame_ into may've very well been the stimulus by which the _fireling_ came into being."

Faith chuckled, shaking her head as she rubbed under the still purring _fireling's_ tiny chin with one gentle finger. "What'd you think? Did you like B's speech last night?"

"What're you going to call her?" Xander asked, one eyebrow raised at the creature the Slayers were all but fawning over. "Fiery?"

"No," Buffy scoffed, but then frowned as she risked a glance at her sister-Slayer. "That's not—"

"Definitely not," Faith agreed quickly, nodding even as she glanced at Giles. "What'd you think, G-man?"

Giles blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. "Well, I suppose something with ties to mythology would be the most fitting, would it not? Perhaps Izanami?"

Faith grimaced, "What's that?"

"A creator goddess of Japanese myths, the mother of the god of fire; Kagututi."

The two Slayers glanced at each other, and then simultaneously shook their heads.

"What about Bast?" Willow suggested quietly.

"That's an Egyptian god, right?" Buffy asked.

Willow nodded, "Goddess, yeah. Cats were sacred to her, and I think her name meant something about fire, right?" she finished with a glance towards the Watcher, who was smiling softly. (11)

"Yes, Bast was a sun and war goddess, worshipped by much of ancient Egypt, but primarily as the local deity and cat goddess of Bubastis." He paused in thought for a moment, then continued. "I do not know if her name was originally associated with fire, but as she was a goddess of the Sun, she was also known as the Lady of Flame. Originally she was viewed as a fierce protector, often depicted with the head of a lioness. But in later dynasties, she was renamed Bastet and due to Hellenistic—Greek—influences was also labeled a goddess of the Moon." (12)

The Slayers considered that name as well, but Buffy remained quiet as she sensed Faith's rejection of the name before the younger Slayer spoke.

"I don't like it."

Willow blinked at her, "Why not?"

Faith rolled her eyes before jerking her head towards the blonde Slayer, "We've already got a B. Next."

"If you wish to name her after the element she embodies, the Italian name Fiammetta might suffice? 'Fiamma' is 'fire' in Italian." When both Slayers made faces at that name, he rolled his eyes. "Or you could name her after the Roman goddess of the hearth; Vesta." (13)

Buffy raised an eyebrow at the younger Slayer, "I like it."

Faith considered it, then nodded slowly, before glancing down at the 'kitten' both of them were still petting. "What'd you think, kitty? Vesta sound alright to you?"

The kitten's head cocked to the side, its bright golden eyes glancing back and forth between the two Slayers for several long moments, then it nodded. "_Meow Meow Meow!_"

"Alright," Buffy chuckled, smiling softly. "Vesta it is." Then she stiffened slightly, looking over towards the nearby, closed hospital door. "Better hide, Vesta." She glanced back towards the fire-kitty again, just in time to see Faith slipping into the nearby bathroom, closing the door behind her just as the hospital door opened and a nurse bustled in.

"My, you have many visitors this morning, Dr. Giles, don't you?" the fifty-something woman inquired, smiling gently as she started quickly checking all of the machines around the patient.

Giles grinned warmly in response, "I do, indeed."

Buffy cocked her head ever-so-slightly to the side as her empathetic senses picked up a distinct note of wariness from the nurse. Not fear, really. Just wariness. And respect. Not that she was too surprised by it. Most of the hospital staff knew there was something different about her, and they'd started suspecting something similar of Faith not long ago. How could they not?

The Slayer needed to make a run through the hospital's morgue at least once a week here, sometimes more often. Usually it was because of a soon-to-be vampire that was due to rise again before their corpse's scheduled burial. Sometimes it was something more unusual.

And occasionally vampires or demons would get it into their heads that targeting a hospital for whatever they desired was a fantastic idea. Which involved even more interesting dilemmas. At least vampires weren't as much of a problem as they used to be. Not since Giles had decided to place regular wards around the hospital, making it impossible for active vampires to enter the hospitals halls through the doors or windows. Meaning the only way a vamp could get in was via the morgue while they were still a corpse. Something the Watcher was trying to find a way to fix, but hadn't yet succeeded.

"Yes, well, we always like to see friends and family stopping by," the nurse continued, nodding slightly to herself as she finished up, closing the folder she'd been making notes in and setting it down on a nearby tray before reaching into one of her pockets to pull out a syringe. "Here's the next dose to help with the pain." So saying she injected it into one of the many lines that were connected to Giles' body. "And Dr. Owens will be stopping by some time in the next hour."

"Thank you, Nurse Stevens," Giles replied quietly, watching along with the rest of them as the nurse left, closing the door behind her.

Immediately, the bathroom door opened again, Faith stepping out with Vesta still snugly secure in her arms. The teen was grinning, "Vesta makes one hell of a nightlight," she told them as she gently set the 'kitten' down as it started shifting about. "Never needed to touch the light switch," then she blinked in consideration. "Not that I'd really need to, anyway. Slayer, here. But—"

"We get it, Faith," Buffy replied with a small smile.

Faith nodded in response. "Yeah. So... How long you gonna be holed up in here, G-man?"

"Not too long, I hope. Though I'm sure Dr. Owens will tell me." The Watcher replied, then blinked as the _fireling_ leapt up onto his bed. "Why hello."

Buffy giggled, "I think she likes you, Giles. Vesta this is Giles." She indicated the Englishman the _fireling_ was staring at, and then pointed to the others around the room. "You already know me and Faith. That's Willow and Oz. And that's Xander and Cordelia."

"_Meow-meow!_"

Everyone chuckled or giggled at the cute little response, but then both Slayers stiffened again, a moment before the others could hear the approaching footsteps in the hall. Before any of them could do anything, however, Vesta had loped off into the bathroom once more, somehow closing the door behind her with her tiny tail as everyone blinked at her. Then their heads jerked towards the door as knock resounded through it.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

"Come in," Giles called gently, and the door opened to reveal yet another nurse in the pale pink uniform this hospital favored.

"Good evening, Dr. Giles, Miss Summers, Miss Lehane."

The Watcher was the only one that didn't show any visible reaction to the older nurse's very clear English accent, though Buffy could sense that he was just as surprised as she was.

"Nurse Roberts," Giles returned her nod. "I trust the Council has plans for the recent events?"

The nurse nodded firmly, "A special operations team is in route to collect Mrs. Post and return her to London for her trial. They should be arriving within the next few hours."

"You're a Watcher?" Buffy asked, staring at the thirty-something woman.

"Yes, Miss Summers. The Council felt that keeping a Watcher among the hospital staff here would be best after the events with the Kindestod demon." Roberts then nodded slightly towards Giles again. "Dr. Giles was aware of my presence, and had you ever needed my help he would have called me. As it is, I have merely been insuring that hospital speculation towards your activities has not come too close to the truth, as that could be dangerous for you."

Buffy nodded in understanding, "Thank you." Then she sighed, "What's going to happen to Post? With the trial and everything?"

"If she is found guilty, the Council has access to a number of penitentiaries that are capable of holding the magically inclined. A more powerful witch would be a much greater problem, but Mrs. Post has very little real power on her own. The accomplice that she killed was almost certainly the one that cast the shield you were unable to penetrate." She stiffened suddenly then, glancing down at her wrist where Buffy and Faith could both see the thin bracelet she wore was vibrating. "Hmm, this is unexpected."

"What?" Faith asked, just barely keeping it calm enough to not sound like a demand.

"It seems Mrs. Post is awake. I confess, I had expected her to remain comatose until she was at least in route to England." Roberts cocked her head to the side, a clearly curious expression on her face as she raised an eyebrow at Giles. "I shall have to fix that, unless you object?"

"N—"

Buffy cut her Watcher off, "Wait. I want to talk to her."

Both Watchers blinked at her.

"What?" Giles sputtered, frowning as he continued. "Why?"

"Yeah, B, why would you wanna talk to that nut again?"

The elder Slayer sighed, shaking her head. "I want to know why she did it." Then she raised an eyebrow at her sister-Slayer. "Don't you?"

* * *

_381181295019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Lily's House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, October 26, 1996**_

Charlie leaned back into the couch again, finally giving into his sore body's demands for rest as he considered the new information. After several moments, he glanced up again. "A Slayer couldn't have survived one great big battle with all the demons, so a lot of the demons must have just left, then?"

But this time Richard shook his head. "That's really a much too simple way to put it."

"You must remember, young one," Madam Ward finally spoke up again. "That the Slayer existed for millions of years before humanity had any real tenure on this dimension. Remember that human history, human civilizations, can only be traced back several thousand years into the past. The War was ongoing for millions of years before that, and really still is. But while all of the Slayers that died for humanity certainly played a major role in securing our place in this world, just as the Slayer line holds an integral role in maintaining our dominion now, She still isn't the only force that needs to be considered." The old witch shook her head, looking off into the distance as she continued. "Our best guess is that the demons still in this world now outnumber humanity at least ten to one. Add in all the dimensions that can still open unto our own, and all of the demons in them, and it would be very easy for the demonic forces to truly overwhelm us."

Charlie swallowed slightly, taking a slow breath as he felt Sineya's comforting presence wrap around him to calm his nervousness at the picture the mages were painting. "So why don't they?"

"Because of The Slayer. Because of The Balance. And because of hundreds, maybe even thousands of treaties between different demonic clans and species, governing what each is allowed to do and what each is not allowed to do."

"More than anything else," Deborah finally spoke up, "You can remember that most living beings are very selfish by nature." At the confused looks Charlie and Lily sent her, she smiled. "It's why the treaties exist, you see. And why they work."

"Yes," her brother picked up again easily, also nodding. "More than anything, no matter how strong certain individual demons are, they know they can still be overpowered. Be it by a more powerful demon, maybe a Slayer, or by sheer numbers. And it is ultimately the fear of that: of either losing or winning and then not being able to maintain their victory, that keeps the vast majority of the demonic forces in check."

"Though, honestly, it's kind of amazing that they're all still sticking to the old alliances and whatnot." Deborah continued softly. "Since the Dark Congress * hasn't met in almost eighteen centuries." (14)

Charlie blinked at her in confusion, but it was Lily who voiced that confusion.

"What?"

"The Dark Congress was an immense gathering of demonic ambassadors that took place once every century for thousands of years. It was when all the races of monsters, dark gods and demons gathered to resolve conflicts amongst them."

His sister interrupted again, smiling at the confused expression on both teenagers faces, "Even the most hostile demonic races realized that war among themselves was not conductive to their efforts to reclaim this dimension."

Madam Ward spoke up now, her warm, soft voice somehow reaching all their respectful ears. "There have always been many demonic species that do not mind sharing the world with humanity. Some even prefer the idea of humanity controlling the Earth, as they remember the times when demons dominated the globe. When demons were in prominence, in prehistoric times, they were constantly at war and the more peaceful races were frequently exterminated or subjugated. Thus, the treaty with the powers that so many of them agreed to, keeps them safe, just as it protects humanity."

Deborah spoke up again when Madam Ward stopped, "One of the main topics of every Dark Congress was, of course, the course of demon-kinds future in this dimension. More specifically, what efforts—if any—they would put forth to battle what some demons called 'the plague of humanity' that grew stronger with every passing year."

"I guess that makes sense from the peaceful demons point of view," Lily offered, still clearly confused. "But why wouldn't the more hostile demons just eat the pacifists? Why would they _want_ to debate anything with them?"

"Although violence broke out at several Dark Congresses, and a full scale Demonic War was always a possibility, you must realize that the politics of the demon-world are very intricate, young one," Madam Ward replied, shaking her head. "While the truly pacifistic demons were rare, there were many who simply enjoy the world as it now is."

Charlie's mind went back to how the vampire Spike had chosen to help Annie stop Angel from unleashing hell on earth, simply because he liked this world with all the 'billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs.'

"But the last time it took place was in the second century B.C." Richard picked up the explanation, "And it ended violently, with the conflicts that were supposed to be discussed never resolved while an internecine war drove wedges between the many demonic races that have lingered ever since."

"Why? What happened?" Charlie asked, unable to suppress his curiosity.

"An ancient tale of Romeo and Juliet, you could say," Constance offered with a painfully sad smile. "Two of the most powerful demonic races of the time were the water demons—Undines, Nereids, Sirens, Naiads, and such *—and the desert demons—like the Azazel * and the Exsiccare *, all of which were of decidedly different philosophies. Kandida was a great North African river demon, and was among those who argued in favor of pacifism, since the status quo allowed her kin to enjoy being worshipped by humans, since they could control the waters and either help or torture humans as they pleased. Trajabo, on the other hand, was a desert demon that, along with despising the water demons, wanted to exterminate humanity from the world. Kandida and Trajabo were two of the most respected members of their kind, which allowed them to keep the peace. But then they fell in love, and their union created a storm of fury and hatred." (15) (16) (17)

Deborah continued, her voice quiet and just as pain as she told a story that apparently all witches knew. "The pair represented different races, different philosophies and different regions coming together. And when they did so, they began attempting to persuade all of the ambassadors at the second century Dark Congress that the time had come for an answer to the ultimate question once and for all, a final consensus on the future of the world. But their kin despised one another, only agreeing that the love between Kandida and Trajabo could never be allowed to survive, as either defecting to the ways of the other would be a disaster for their race."

Richard picked it up again, "The lovers were attacked. Kandida was nearly killed, and then magically entombed in the bank of the river Sebu, in Morocco. While Trajabo, also nearly dead, was scattered among the sands of the desert." He shook his head. "The Congress was torn apart as war erupted among the demonic races, clans, tribes and monsters. The old gods, who were dying out anyway, took refuge in different dimensions. And the Dark Congress has never met again since then, though the decisions of the first century were eventually used to stop the wars, bringing a tense peace that has –for the most part—held till this day."

Charlie considered that for several long moments, frowning as he fought the urge to shake his head again. "But why are they still kept apart, then? If the attack against them offended so many, why hasn't anyone ever freed them?"

Madam Ward chuckled, shaking her head at him. "Kandida and Trajabo were greatly respected, and still are to some extent. But they wanted the Dark Congress to make a final decision that most demons were afraid of making. The one decision that had been left unresolved at every Dark Congress before the second century B.C. A quest that all had very intense feelings about, that none were willing to let go of, so all left unanswered, leaving it to be decided at a later date."

"So they've kept them apart all these years—centuries—because they're afraid of answering that question?" Lily asked softly, also frowning.

"Or not being able to. Of being forced to admit that the Dark Congress was a useless effort that would never be able to answer that question. Or of having the Congress torn apart by an open Demonic War once again. Or any number of things, really." Richard shook his head, "Of course, one must keep in mind that we are human beings trying to rationalize the actions of real demons. And not even just the lesser demons that we currently share this dimension with."

Charlie started, and suppressed a wince as his body protested the action, though he didn't stop his face from settling into its earlier frown again despite the pained protest of several facial muscles. "Lesser demons?"

Richard nodded again, "Yes. The stories of great monsters that rivaled dinosaurs in size and boasted numerous terrible powers are very real. But many either left this world or were killed off a long time ago. Well, as closed to 'killed off' as any of those monsters can really get." At the confused look Charlie and Lily shot him, he sighed and elaborated. "Demons don't quite die the way we do. Especially the ancients. Believe it or not, many of the demons that are still around have actually inbred with various mortal animals, some of them even with humans at some point in their evolution."

"That's why not all demons register as entirely evil to the Slayer," Deborah offered quietly, "that's why not all modern demons _are_ soulless monsters. They really are creatures of this world."

Charlie thought about that for several long moments, trying to ignore the confusion Lily was radiating as he focused on his own confused thoughts. After a moment one of the enemies Annie had fought came to mind. "What about The Judge?"

Lily was still entirely confused, but the other witches took his question in stride.

"The Judge is a true demon," Agatha Ward confirmed. "That is why Dr. Giles, and the Council, went to great efforts to scatter his body parts after Miss Summers managed to incapacitate him."

"A lot of the ancient demons, the true demons, were like that," Constance confirmed, a bit of discomfort rolling off her, she clearly didn't like the topic of discussion but was also going to great lengths to control her own emotions, just like all the others.

They did know that Charlie was an empath, so it only made sense. Lily tried, of course, but her elders were much better at it.

"Most of those demons must be gone now, right? The really big, really hostile ones, I mean? Otherwise, Buffy—and all the Slayers that are Called—would be fighting them all the time, wouldn't they?" Charlie shook his head a little and instantly regretted the motion but forced himself to continue talking anyway. "And none of them would have allowed the peaceful—well, not really peaceful. The various Demon races are basically in a demonic Cold War, right? That's why the human race has been able to thrive and advance over the last few millennia?"

Madam Ward nodded, "Precisely."

Richard also nodded, though empathetically Charlie could sense that he didn't quite agree with the statement. "It's not that simple, though. Not really." He shook his head when Madam Ward raised an eyebrow at him, and continued. "Many of the true, greater demons were forced from this dimension, or destroyed. The lesser demons rose against them for many different reasons, but the outcome was that as of roughly five thousand B.C., none of the truly great monsters remained intact and functioning in our dimension. Vampires became the predominant demonic species—though almost any demon you ask will claim vampires aren't real demons. Even the lesser ones that are still around today."

"If you get the chance to ask them and they deign to answer you, of course," Deborah added, shrugging slightly and grinning when her brother shook his head at her.

"And, really, many of those hostile demons would jump at any chance to take this dimension back from humanity." Richard continued, ignoring his sister's comment. "It's why the Council, why everyone that knows the truth about our world and doesn't want to bring about the apocalypse or the end of mankind, doesn't want portals to other dimensions opened."

"But there was a portal to another dimension at Angels' House," Lily pointed out with a frown.

"Yes, there was," Constance nodded again. "But there are thousands of different dimensions for the Powers to worry about. They have to pick their battles, so the lesser dimensions that don't contain massive demonic armies bent on destroying humanity, are occasionally ignored. Though that portal _did_ come to the Slayer's attention. Whether that was specifically to simply draw her focus back to her Calling, or something the Powers were really interested in her handling, is debatable."

"The Powers focus all of their efforts on making sure the truly dangerous demons can't come back," Madam Ward agreed with the younger witch, "but they must also honor The Balance."

Charlie was hit by a surge of frustration so strong, so foreign, that he was honestly surprised when he realized a second later that the frustration was not coming from any of his companions. The frustration was solely his own. "I don't understand that."

"The Balance?" Madam Ward sighed and continued without waiting for a response. "It's a very complicated topic, to be sure. But it does govern everything in our world in some way or another. Both science and magic, humans and demons, are all influenced by it." She shook her head, "Sentient beings, humans especially, have free will and therefore more leeway under its effects than magic and most of the natural world, but we are still under its power at all times."

Charlie shook his head from side to side as another burst of his own frustration hit him, completely ignoring his body's protests at the frenzied motion. "But how is this—this _war_ Annie's fighting in any way _balanced?_ There's supposed to be _one_ Slayer in all the world, right? Against _millions_ of vampires, demons, evil witches and who knows what else? How is that in any way _balanced?_"

"It's not fair, of course," Madam Ward spoke softly, almost like she was treating him like an angry puppy. Or a crazy person. Though he could sense that she was taking him quite seriously, no matter how much she, too, didn't like this topic. "Even with Miss Lehane fighting alongside her, with the Watchers Council and the many other demon hunters in the world, the odds are always stacked against our world's champions."

"Exactly! It's not—"

She cut him off, her quiet, commanding presence easily grabbing hold of the conversation once more. "And as far as we know, it's always been that way." She sighed. "Personally, I don't believe that The Balance that governs magic, nature and the like is the same as The Balance that supposedly protects our world by keeping the ancient, true demons from returning. There are theories, of course, that the human race's rapid advancements over the last couple of centuries especially play a heavy part in it."

Charlie blinked at that, some of his frustration and pent up anger at the topic fading in the face of a new, confusing fact. "What?"

The old witch chuckled, "I'm sure you know more about the current scientific advances of our times, young man. But just the basics are enough to understand the general concept. Millions of years ago, our ancestors fought with stones *. Then they discovered fire * and eventually they started wearing clothes *. The bow-and-arrow * and agriculture * came into being. The wheel * was invented, along with devices to measure time * and writing systems *. Firearms were around before that. Thousands of years later, Gutenberg invented the printing press *. Only a few centuries after that rapid-communication across long distances became possible. And in only the last two hundred years, humanity has advanced by leaps and bounds that make past advancements laughable; automobiles, flight, space-travel, telephones, computers, nuclear technology along with all of the others sciences." She shook her head. "Do you think the demons have made such advances?" She continued before anyone could respond, raising an eyebrow towards both Charlie and Lily. "I know you thankfully weren't in that hell-dimension for long, but surely you saw the level of technology present there?" (18-24)

Charlie frowned, glancing down as he thought back on it, but Lily replied right away.

"I, uh, I think they were doing some kind of metal work, weren't they?"

Charlie nodded in agreement, his stomach rolling slightly as the memory of the smells—smoke, ash and filth—and sounds—metal clanging, whips cracking and the slaves silence—momentarily resurfaced.

Madam Ward nodded, "They were probably working with iron or steel, depending on how much time the demons were willing to spend among humans to learn from our histories and technologies *. Adaptability is humanity's greatest asset, you see, and it's a trait that few demonic races share." (25)

"You think that that place was some kind of big forge?" Charlie asked, not finding anything too erroneous with the concept except for the fact that he didn't like rationalizing that horrible place in any way.

"It probably was," Richard cut in, nodding his own agreement. "From what we've heard from some of the other survivors, their jailers were brutal taskmasters, but their goal was the finished products. Its why most of the victims of those kinds of places died of old age more than being beaten to death or something of that sort."

"Becky's talked about that a bit," Lily murmured softly, looking at the floor.

"Some of the others have, too," Constance told them, her tone kind. "Many of our sisters and brothers, as you know, have been working at Angels' House as trauma counselors, with quite a bit of success."

"But the important thing to note is how far behind the demons appear to be technologically. On one hand, they simply can't adapt and evolve the way we do. It's not in their nature. Most—if not all—of the technological advances they've made were actually stolen from us." Madam Ward continued. "Even magic; though demons use it when it suits them, most of the spells they use are picked up from books written by humans, or by demons working from human teachings."

When she stopped, Richard spoke up again. "That's mostly because one of the agreements between the Powers That Be is the agreement that no technology more advanced than the crossbow could be wielded against demon-kind. It's probably also why most of humanity doesn't recognize the existence of demons."

"What?" Charlie's frown was considerably deeper now.

"We can't say for certain, of course, but many believe that in order to keep the bargain—of not involving more advanced technology in the war, the Powers That Be cast a spell over this dimensions inhabitants that discourages them from becoming aware of demon-kind. Judging by just how many people stayed to work with Angels' House, it may very well be negated by dimensional travel, but it's almost certainly still in effect all over the world."

"Wait," a horrified look was stretched across Lily's face as she stared at Richard. "You meant that if the demons attacked humanity all at once, like if they decided everything settled at the last Dark Congress is null and void because of the time that's elapsed between the meetings, we couldn't even use modern technology to defend ourselves? Would we even be able to open dealings with the human-friendly demonic allies or—"

"Would nuclear weapons work against demons?" Charlie cut in before Lily could get any more hysterical. "Biological weapons? Chemical weapons? I know that guns don't kill vampires."

Deborah sighed before replying, "I'm quite sure that if demons became anymore obvious in their dealings and whatnot that the militaries of world would respond very quickly. Whether any of the weapons they have at their disposal would work against demons or not, is debatable."

"As both Miss Summers and Miss Lehane can undoubtedly tell you," Madam Ward spoke up again, "brute force is often enough to overcome many of the demons that currently stalk our shadows. But I'm sure Dr. Giles could explain that these demons are weaker than their ancestors. Weaker than the demons that would be coming from other dimensions as soon as they're given half a chance. Can a bomb kill a vampire? Yes, if it manages to burn or decapitate it during the explosion. Any weapon that can exploit a weakness a certain kind of demon has will work against them, but the moment we breach our side of the agreement, we give the other side a chance to counter with a similar act."

"But Buffy used a rocket launcher—"

"The Judge was only able to come into being because of the existence of two Slayers, and even then neither Slayer was really powerful enough to merit such a power counter to their joint existence. Thus Miss Summer's use of a rocket launcher to destroy him went unchallenged, as has the continued existence of two Slayers. Possibly because, as you said earlier, Dr. Eppes, the deck _is_ heavily stacked against the Slayers." The old lady sighed and shook her head. "As for aggression on the part of the demonic races; it is something we all worry about and watch for, of course. But we've never had any part in the negotiations that are held between the Powers and the demons."

Charlie blinked, honestly shocked by the statement. "What? Why?"

Madam Ward chuckled softly, "Knowing how demons in general feel about humans, do you honestly think and of them would be willing to sit down across a table from a human and make any kind of deal in good—or any kind of—faith?"

"But if some demons are friendly—"

"Most of them like humans supposedly being in charge because it basically means no one is in charge. The lesser races don't have to pick between the greater demons for a defender, they can just band together and say they like things the way they are and not have to worry about being oppressed or subjugated by any of the stronger demons that want to conquer this world. As long as they have strength in numbers, which they almost surely still do, they can be happy with what, for them, amounts to anarchy."

"Oh," Charlie winced.

"You know, I really kind of liked the idea that there are actually some demons out there that like us," Lily complained.

Constance laughed, "There are, little one. There are individual demons that get along quite well with individual humans or small groups like ours. But demons in general respect power and they don't think that most humans have enough power to be worthy of any respect. Some respect magic-wielders, at least the ones that are powerful enough to merit wariness and therefore respect, but as a whole you won't find any demonic people that will be willing to admit that they're equal and therefore not superior to humans."

"But if demons started invading—" this time Lily was cut off by Deborah.

"If any demonic dimension actually started a full-scale invasion the agreement of separation would be voided. Just as it would be if we used modern technology to fight the demons that are already here. Which is another reason, as far as we can tell, that most demons haven't really wanted to try it. Modern weapons scare many of them. We don't know what affect many of them will have on various demons, but neither do they."

"We monitor aggressive activities of that sort," Richard explained. "And as far as we can tell that does seem to be a fairly common consensus, though no demons have actually admitted to fearing any man-made items."

"But they could still come back?"

"Yes, there are many hostile demons that would love to take this dimension back from humanity. Those demons have built up and maintained great armies in other dimensions that would be near-impossible to defeat once they enter our world."

"Most of them haven't been able to come back," Constance added, "Because of The Balance—the Powers That Be won't let the demons return, and natural order is on their side until something tips the Balance too much and allows a change to occur."

"Oh," Charlie thought about that for a second before sighing again. "That makes sense, I guess." Then his frown returned as his eyes flew to Lily, "Lily, what do my parents—"

"I called your house last night," Lily cut in, giving him a reassuring smile. "Told your mom you fell asleep on my couch while we were watching a movie and I didn't have the heart to wake you. She came to check on you earlier this morning, and Richard was pretending to sleep in the armchair while the rest of us were making breakfast, so you shouldn't get teased or anything."

"Oh," Charlie forces a grateful smile—though the gratefulness was honest, motion of any kind was still a little hard, "Thanks."

"No problem," Lily smiled back. "They're gonna pick you up at The House when they come to see your class," she hurried on as a bit of panic entered his expression. "Which isn't for another six hours and you did your lesson plan for it over a week ago. We'll be driving into The House once you're able to stand up without collapsing."

Charlie tried to remember what this particular lesson was supposed to be about, but was coming up blank. "I'm not sure I'll be able to—"

"This is the lesson with a lot of computer stuff, remember? So you'll be sitting down most of the time. And Gunn, Alonna and some of the others are already going through your lesson to try and set up the classroom so that you won't have to stand up at all, if possible."

"Constance and Deborah will be attending your lesson, as well," Madam Ward told him gently. "They'll make sure you don't hurt yourself."

"Thank you."

Madam Ward nodded slowly, her expression still very stern. "Hopefully this will serve as a lesson to you. To both of you." She looked between Charlie and Lily. "You _must_ recognize your limits, and you need much more training before you can expect to use magic freely. Understand?"

Both nodded timidly, Charlie barely letting his head move, as his headache seemed to be returning full-force.

"Good." Then she turned to Lily, frowning severely at her. "I'm more disappointed in you, though, little one."

Lily wilted a little under the elder's frown.

"Dr. Eppes has only learned a small smattering of magic and the like, but you have been training regularly with your elder sisters for several weeks now. You should have known better."

"I know, Madam, I'm sorry." Lily's eyes were locked on the floor, her form hunched forward a bit as she offered her apologies, before protesting. "But Charlie was so worried! We had to do something, and he can be really persuasive someti—"

"I am aware of how compelling Dr. Eppes can be, little one. That doesn't change any of the facts."

"Yes, ma'am."

After several more long seconds of silent reproach, Ward's gaze returned to Charlie, and he almost winced in response. She stared at him for several more long seconds, before sighing. "If you want to use magic, Dr. Eppes, you need to learn how to do so properly."

Charlie stared back at her, unsure of why everyone else seemed surprised by that statement. It seemed like an obvious fact to him, but Ward seemed to expect something from him in response.

Was this one of the witch-etiquette things he was supposed to have read about but hadn't because he'd been busy researching the Slayer line, preparing for Cal-Sci, or any number of other things?

Well, if it was, there wasn't much he could do about that now. But he still needed to respond.

"I realize that, Madam," he offered quietly, sure that the short response should be a pretty safe one. He was a little worried as exasperation entered the minds of all his other companions while he could both feel and see amusement in Madam Ward's eyes.

"I have not taken an apprentice in many years," Madam Ward continued, a bit of nostalgia drifting into her tone before she quickly shook it away. "But I think I should like to teach you what I can."

Charlie eyes widened in shock that he knew was partially his own, but also heightened by all the others around him. "You—You want to teach me magic?"

"If you care to learn it. Yes."

"I care!" Charlie replied quickly, wincing as his body protested even the slight, but still too abrupt action of responding quickly. "I mean, I want to. Learn magic. If—"

"Very good then, Charles." Madam Ward nodded to him, smiling softly as she rose from her seat and moved a few steps closer before holding out her hand. "We shall begin your first lesson this Monday evening, then."

Charlie didn't really think about it as he reached out to take her hand, starting to shake it even as she gently clasped their hands together, stopping as she placed her other hand on top of their joined hands.

"You accept me, Agatha Ward, as your teacher, child?"

Charlie stared at her, a little distracted by the excitement building up in the others around him, before he forced himself to reply. "Yes, of—"

"Then I accept you, Charles Eppes, as my apprentice. I shall teach you all I can, and help you all I may, as you take your first steps into the magics of this world."

Charlie gasped as warmth built up between their joint hands, seeping into his body as said hands started to glow, but Madam Ward kept speaking.

"So spoken by Agatha Ward."

The light grew brighter, and Charlie felt certain he wouldn't be able to break eye contact with Madam Ward if he wanted to.

"So witnessed by Constance Westwood."

Still the light grew brighter, though it didn't seem to hurt his eyes at all.

"So mote it be," Constance, Richard, Deborah and Lily said in unison.

An even greater wave of warmth flooded his aching body as the bright light faded until only their hands were glowing, and that too faded as the old witch gently released his hand and offered him a kind smile.

"I will see you at my townhouse on Monday at five-thirty, Charles."

Charlie nodded carefully in response, a bit surprised when the motion no longer seemed to hurt quite as much. "Yes, Madam."

"You may address me by my given name, Charles." Madam Ward told him, her voice still more kind than stern, though that changed with her next words. "Get some rest." She offered a nod to the others in the room, before she turned and moved away from them, to the open area of the living room. She turned back towards him, nodded to them all as she said, "Blessed be."

Then she disappeared.

Charlie stared at the place the old lady had been standing in, his eyes wide in astonishment. "She... She—"

"She teleported, yes." Constance told him with a small smile. "Some of the more experienced, more powerful witches are capable of that. They don't abuse it, of course. But Madam Ward was in Boston the last few days, remember? She had to teleport here, and she needs to do a few more things there before she flies back this evening."

"We called her on the way here," Deborah explained just as kindly. "Wayward astral projection can be a bit tricky to resolve, especially with an active Hellmouth nearby, and we didn't want to take any chances with you. So we called her cell phone while we were driving over."

"She got here almost twenty minutes before them. She just appeared in the mudroom," Lily offered, shaking her head in barely hidden amazement. "I knew some of the elders can teleport, but..."

"It is a little shocking to actually see it, yes." Constance agreed, smiling. "Though very few can actually do it like Madam Ward just did. She's done it so many times in the past that she doesn't even need to say the spell anymore. That can happen."

"But you'll be learning about that soon enough, little brother," Deborah cut in with a smile, shaking her head as some of the disbelief she—and all the other elder witches were feeling—leaked into her expression. "You're very lucky, little brother. Madam Ward hasn't deigned to take an apprentice in at least fifty-years—"

"Fifty-seven," Richard cut her off and his sister nodded.

"We'd best be on our way as well." Constance said as she and the other two also rose, "Deborah and I will see you at Angels' House tonight, alright?"

"Yes," Charlie nodded in agreement. "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

Constance nodded, bending down slightly to place a gentle kiss on his brow as she murmured, "Blessed be," and then she moved towards the door as Deborah moved towards him.

Deborah crouched down slightly to give him a hug, also murmuring, "Blessed be," before releasing him and following her sister-witch.

Richard just clamped one hand down on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as he said his, "Blessed be," and followed his coven members.

Charlie and Lily both watched as the three magic-users gathered the meager belongings they'd brought with them before finally heading out the door. Then they turned back to each other.

Lily cocked her head to the side, but then rose and moved over to him, gently pushing him to lie back on the couch as she pulled the blanket on the back of the couch down to tuck him in again. "Get some rest. I'll wake you up in a few hours, okay?"

"Did Buffy—"

"They're fine. Buffy called me a few hours ago," Lily told him gently. "She's more than a little mad at you, but everything's alright on their end. You can talk to her later tonight. Or tomorrow. You need to rest now."

Charlie finally gave in, knowing she was right. "Thank you."

Lily nodded, giving him a bright smile as she also said, "Blessed be," before moving quickly out of the room.

Charlie frowned after her, "You know, with all of you saying that to me, I kind of feel like I'm missing something."

Lily's only response was a short laugh, followed by, "Go to sleep."

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**XpressoPump, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 27, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head slightly, stifling the urge to sigh as she watched Willow fidget on the other side of the table they'd snagged a few minutes before. She didn't like making her friends uncomfortable, but this intervention really was for their own good. Though she probably should have picked a different place to stage it. If it were anyone else she wouldn't think it possible, but even the mere _smell_ of coffee seemed to make Willow a little hyper. Of course, the redhead's obvious case of nerves didn't help, but still...

"Hey Buff, Wills!"

Both glanced up and towards the nearby door, returning the grin that Xander was sending their way as he made his way over to them and dropped down into the closest of the available seats, placing himself directly in between the two of them.

Buffy pushed the drink and muffin she'd bought for him towards him. "De-Caf, Iced Honey Coffee with extra cream and three sugars. And a chocolate, chocolate chip muffin."

"Much appreciated, Buffster." Xander picked up his muffin and took a bite out of the top, chewing the bite over and obviously savoring the taste as he rolled it over on his tongue a few times before swallowing, and then washed it down with a sip of his overly sweet drink. Then he raised an eyebrow at the Slayer, "What's the occasion?"

Buffy let both of her eyebrows shoot up in an expression of wounded innocence, "Can't I just want to hang with my BFF's?" she asked, before taking a sip of her cappuccino as she awaited his response.

"Of course you can!" Willow immediately interjected, before shaking her head slightly as she kept fiddling with the wrapper that'd come off her currently digesting blueberry muffin several minutes before. "But, um, it sounded like you wanted to talk about something?"

Again Buffy had to struggle a little to keep her expression neutral as both her friend's anxiety-levels suddenly spiked. She shrugged and took another sip of her cappuccino. Then she nodded. "I guess you could say this is an intervention of sorts."

The other two teenagers looked at each other, confusion filling their faces even as their emotions remained decidedly more nervous than confused as they turned those expressions back to her.

"What'd you mean, Buffy?" Xander's question came out a bit more demanding than he obviously intended, as he immediately winced and backpedaled. "I mean, it's not like Wills or I have any dangerous habits we need to be broken of. 'Cept maybe helpin' out with the slayer stuff, and it's not like you're gonna talk us out of that now."

"No. This has nothing to do with slaying." Buffy shook her head again, raising a hand to forestall any more comments and effectively stopping both of her friends as they obediently closed their mouths and waited for her to continue. "You two have been acting kinda weird around each other lately, and it's starting to affect how you treat the rest of us."

"What are you talking about?" Willow exclaimed defensively, shaking her head back and forth rapidly as she hurried on, while Xander just paled and started to look as uneasy as he was actually feeling. "We haven't been doing anything weird!"

"Uh-huh," Buffy nodded, letting a clear note of skepticism slip into the sound. Then she sighed, "Look, I know I'm not usually the most socially perceptive person around. It's something I've had to work on since I became the Slayer: balancing my life and my duty with everything else. But I'm not blind." Setting her now empty cup down, she held up a hand and began counting off her observations, tapping a finger with each one. "You two have been walking around, avoiding touching and carefully not looking at each other for at least the last few weeks. 'Cept you occasionally sneak looks that you hope no one notices." She gestured sharply to stop them when both opened their mouths to protest, effectively stopping them again. "You guys are my best friends. I care about both of you, and I care about Oz and Cordy, too. Sooner or later, one or both of them is gonna pick up on whatever is going on between you two. And someone—maybe several some ones—is gonna get hurt. I don't want to see that. So let's just skip the instinctive denials and start _fixing_ the problem." She finished, her tone as firm as she could make it as she kept her gaze locked on both of them.

After several long seconds of silence, both seemed to wilt a little as they sighed and looked down in defeat.

"So?" Buffy raised an eyebrow as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes still locked on both her friends. "What's the what?" When neither one looked up after several more seconds of silence, she shook her head. "My guess, Willow, is that Xander finally noticed you were a girl." She grinned a little as both started and looked up at her. "Am I close?"

Both nodded, nearly identical blushes of embarrassment flooding their faces.

"Y-Yeah, I-I guess," Willow stammered, shooting Xander a quick look before she turned her eyes back to the slayer. "Kind of."

"What happened?"

"We were trying on our outfits for the homecoming a few weeks ago. Willow was worried about dancing. So, we dance." Xander sighed, "And then we, kind of, kissed."

"Kind of?"

Willow shook her head, "No, not kind of. We did kiss."

"I kissed her—"

"It's not like I told you to stop, Xan—"

"Ok, ok," Buffy cut them off before they could really get going. "So you kissed before the homecoming fiasco. Then what?"

"We, uh, might've made-out in the library," Willow admitted.

Buffy nodded, "Anywhere else?"

Xander sighed, "Almost at the Bronze."

"Okay," the slayer nodded again, before sighing. "So are you gonna break up with Oz and Cordy?"

"No!" both cried, shaking their heads from side to side in rapid, jerky motions.

"_But?_" Buffy asked, even as she struggled to weed through the emotions her empathetic senses were catching coming off of her friends. But the chaotic, continuously changing influx was not easy to read. She was sensing panic, worry and shame now. But underneath all of that was the friendship and love that'd always been there. The lust, anger and hurt she'd been picking up from time to time wasn't there right now.

Willow sighed again. "You know I had a crush on Xander for the longest time, Buffy. I'm with Oz now, but... I think I still have some of the same feelings for Xander." She paused, and then continued in a panicked rush, "But I love Oz! I really, really do!"

Buffy nodded slowly, never having doubted this. It was some of the other emotions that were the problem. "How about you, Xander?"

"Pretty much the same, I guess." Xander admitted with a sigh of his own. "I mean, I've always loved you, Willow. I'd do anything to keep you safe. But..." he shook his head. "Lately, I've been getting, I don't know. Different feelings for you, I guess. Feelings like I feel for Cordy."

Buffy gave the same slow nod in response as both of her friends looked at her in worry. Then she sighed. "You know, I really didn't want Faith and I to be right about this." Not that that was likely, given her empathetic abilities, but she'd still hoped. She shook her head. "You two need to really talk about this. Work it out and decide what's gonna happen next. It's not fair to Cordy or Oz, or either of you, for you to leave it unresolved. It'll come back and bite ya in the ass way too soon." She rose in a smooth, entirely graceful motion and glided over to the nearby counter, setting her empty cup on it, and then tossing her muffin wrapper in the nearest trashcan on her way back to the table. But she didn't take her seat again, instead she put her hands on her hips. "I've gotta get going. But you two need to sit here and talk. You're both old enough and smart enough to figure this out on your own and start treating your significant others—and yourselves—with the respect all of you deserve. So I'll let you get to it."

Then she spun on her heel and moved out of the almost empty café, suppressing the urge to stick around and make sure her friends were actually going to follow her advice. Knowing that she'd done all she could now, and the rest was up to them.

Hopefully they didn't screw it up.

She'd feel much worse yelling at them for this kind of thing that she was going to feel for yelling at Charlie when she and her mom dropped in on him tonight to find out what the hell he'd been doing the night before last.

* * *

_619208019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, October 27, 1996**_

Faith glared down at the worksheet that was currently confounding her. Math had never been one of the few scholastic subjects she enjoyed, but she didn't want to let Math-man down if she could help it, so she struggled on.

Honestly, it'd gotten a lot easier since she became a Slayer, which B admitted to too. Multiple-choice and true or false tests were both bizarrely easy and ridiculously frustrating. If told to pick from two or more answers, somehow a Slayer always knew the right one when it came to 'simple logic,' which according to Math-man, math was. The real problem was that it didn't mean that Faith herself could actually _do_ or _understand_ the math, just that she could pick out the answer if it was in front of her.

B and Math-man thought it was some kind of strategy-aspect of the Slayer that hadn't been overly explored. Faith thought it was annoying.

Though it was pretty cool when she finally managed to figure out how to do something.

The Slayer looked up as the sound of a truck stopping nearby caught her attention; it was right outside. Happy for any distraction the world was willing to give her, she turned to look out the window and saw a Fed-Ex truck parked in front of the house and a twenty-something guy walking up to the front door.

She tossed her pencil down on the coffee table with the workbook she'd been struggling with as she rose to practically skip over to the front door, grinning slightly as she caught sight of Vesta sprawled out in a patch of sunlight on the dining room floor. She reached the door and pulled it open just as the deliveryman had raised his hand to knock. "Can I help you?"

"Good afternoon, ma'am. Delivery for Miss Faith Lehane?"

Faith started slightly, honestly having expected to need to pretend to be Buffy to take the delivery for one of the Summers ladies. That the package could be for her hadn't remotely occurred to her. And it made her a little suspicious, so she frowned at him. "Who's it from?"

The redhead blinked at her, probably surprised by the obvious suspicion in her voice, but he quickly shook his surprise off as he glanced at the package. "Miss Lehane?"

Faith nodded slowly, "Yeah."

"The package is from a Dr. Eppes?"

Faith blinked again. What would Math-man be sending her? "Oh."

The redhead tucked the small package in question under one arm so he could hold the clipboard * and pen he'd also brought with him out to her. "Sign down at the bottom, please." (26)

The Slayer accepted the clipboard, eyes quickly scanning over the paper to see that it did, in fact, claim that it was receipt for a delivery from a Dr. Charles Eppes in Los Angeles to Miss Faith Lehane in Sunnydale. At the bottom there was a line over the word 'Signature', and she quickly scrawled her barely legible signature across it before handing the clipboard back and accepting the package.

"Thank you, Miss Lehane. Have a nice day."

"Thanks," Faith nodded to him, before closing the front door of the Summers' home as the deliveryman turned and quickly made his way down the front steps towards his truck. She looked down at the package; which happened to be the first item she'd ever had delivered to and for her in this manner. When she'd lived in Boston with her first Watcher she'd accepted packages before, but she'd never ordered anything and anything the Council sent for Slayer-related stuff had always been addressed to Dr. Dormer.

But it was her name in the box for the recipient's info, listed right over the address for the Summers' home. Her home.

"_Meow?_"

Faith jumped slightly, surprised yet again by the Summers' house new guest's soundless approach. You'd think she'd at least have notice the slightly smoky smell that always came off of the still cute little creature, but then again that scent now effectively permeated the house.

"Hey, V," Faith nodded to the fire-kitty. "Looks like we've got a present from math-man." After another second of just staring at the package, she hesitantly slipped one finger under a semi-loose part of the brown packaging and easily peeled it away from the box. With Slayer-strength paper, tape and cardboard were barely noticeable obstacles, and she had the box open in her lap as she sat down on the couch just a second or two later. Directly inside the box, on top of a bunch of packaging, was a small blue envelope with her name slightly off-center in blue ink. She stared at it for another second, before reaching down to pick it up and setting it aside, before digging through the bubble-wrap stuff underneath to find the tiny item hidden inside.

She came up with what was very obviously a cell phone in a bright red protective case and stared at that, too, for several confused seconds before turning her attention back to the little blue envelope and opening it carefully with the cell phone still carefully cradled in one hand.

"_Meow_ _Meow?_"

Faith shook her head, grinning slightly even as she pulled a small piece of thick paper out of the little envelope, her eyes quickly skimming over the message it bore in the same handwriting that'd written her name on the outside of the envelope.

_**Dear Faith,**_

_**I thought a phone of your own might come in handy, especially given your Calling. It's prepaid through the next year, with all the numbers I thought might be useful programmed into the contacts list. Buffy's phone number and mine are obviously there, as well as Lily's and bunch of the others tied to Angels' House. **_

_**If you need help with anything, Slayer-related, school-related, or otherwise, please call one of us. Even if it's just to chat.**_

_**Take care of yourself.**_

_**Charlie**_

_**P.S. You probably don't need to be told, but Buffy's mentioned that Slayer-strength can be very destructive to alarm clocks, so you might want to avoid using that feature.**_

Faith chuckled, the postscript bringing to mind the upstairs closet, which Mrs. Summers always had stocked with at least half-a-dozen alarm clocks. It was definitely a necessity, since she and B went through at least three a week. They'd tried all sorts of ways to spare the annoyingly necessary devices the trauma of so short an existence, but whether it was on the nightstand next to the bed or across the room, somehow they always managed to destroy the things when they were half-awakened by the annoying sounds the things emitted.

Setting the note down on the table and tossing the box aside after she'd taken out the charging cord Math-Man had sent with it, Faith hesitantly opened her phone up and pressed down on the green key that she knew from watching B with hers would turn the thing on.

She watched the screen as the little device came to life, then started fiddling with the buttons. She blinked in surprise when she found the contact list and saw that Math-Man hadn't been kidding, he'd programmed just about every number she could ever need into the list.

Stopping on the cell number for Charlie Eppes, Faith glanced at the clock, and then shook her head. B had said Math-Man would be giving a class at Angels' House sometime both yesterday afternoon and this afternoon. That was partially why B and Joyce hadn't called ahead when they'd left this afternoon for their quick trip to LA a little while before. They weren't sure when said class was and didn't want to risk interrupting it.

With a sigh, she closed the phone and set it gently down on the coffee table before turning her attention back to her studies. She smiled slightly as Vesta jumped up onto the couch next to her and curled up at her side, even as she tried to focus on her workbook again.

Maybe she'd called Math-Man later for help, but it'd be nice if she could figure it out on her own.

* * *

_381181295019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Sunday, October 27, 1996**_

Charlie suppressed a groan at his mother's repeated inquiry—she'd been asking after his health all day. "Really, Mom. I'm _fine_. Just a little tired."

Honestly, more than anything else he was relieved, but also a little bit worried.

His parents had immensely enjoyed their much belated visit to _Angels' House_ yesterday. So much so they'd returned again the following day. They'd been warmly received, of course, and the affectionate pride that'd been radiating off of them the entire time they there had been a little bit overwhelming. Plus, with all of the new people and different things to learn about the house coming at them, they hadn't noticed just how under the weather Charlie still was.

He kind of felt like he was recovering from the flu; achy and tired, with a headache that would probably turn into a migraine some time in the not too distant future.

Whatever Madam Ward had done for him had really worked wonders, and the strange concoction Lily made him choke down before they left for the city in her car had helped too. So much so he'd actually agreed to choke it down again today, too.

When his parents had first committed to coming to visiting _Angels' House_ and sitting in on this particular class, he had considered shifting the class order around a bit, so that he could give them a demonstration that wouldn't be too confusing. He'd surpassed both his parents mathematically before his ninth birthday. As intelligent as they both were, their expertise was not in mathematics and it had clearly shown. But that wasn't why he'd been worried, he was used to that and knew they were used to only understanding one word in ten when he went off into math jargon. But adding computers to the mix had honestly worried him.

His mom was okay with computers; she had to use them at work for various things all the time now. She checked her email regularly and was quite comfortable with the various faculties of Microsoft Office. But that was pretty much where her compatibility with computers ended.

His dad, on the other hand, avoided them like the plague. The company he worked for had younger engineers to work with the new technological implements that were coming out every day. Most of what his dad did he did with paper, a pencil and some tools for measurements and whatnot. He had an email box, but he really only checked it when his wife reminded him to, which was about once every other week.

So the more in-depth aspects of the class he was covering, specifically focusing on working with computers and whatnot, were a bit above their understanding of the 'infernal box' as Dr. Giles had, according to Annie, dubbed it at one point. More because of the generational boundary than anything else. Whereas most of the kids his age had been either brought up with computers or weaned into them by the education system, no one really had them when his parents were growing up. Save for some of the companies that had much less advanced, and considerably larger models for some reason or another. (27)

But, in the end, he was glad he'd decided against moving the schedule around. Primarily because he didn't think it was fair to his students to switch the syllabus up like that. He knew some teachers did it, but he hadn't liked it when it'd happened in classes he'd been in, and he knew many other students didn't like it either. So he'd decided against doing it himself. (28)

And he was very glad he had, especially since it'd given him classes that gave him plenty of opportunities to sit down and remain sitting for prolonged periods of time.

Margaret spoke up again as she slowed down to turn into there driveway. "I invited Larry and Marshall to join us for dinner tonight since Marshall is flying back east today."

'_Marshall?_' Charlie wondered, frowning in confusion for a second, before realization struck. '_No. Please tell me she didn't!_' He looked around, glad to see that the pretentious prig wasn't there yet. "Did you _have_ to invite Penfield, mom?"

The blonde sighed, "Yes, Charlie, I did." Then she shot him a warning look. "And you will _behave_ this evening."

"But Mom—"

"Uh-uh. You're not fifteen any more, Charlie. And you're going to be a teaching classes at a college soon, so you should be able to act like an adult. Even around people you don't like." She sighed as she turned the car off, shaking her head as she turned back to him. "Really, I don't understand why you two can't get along better. You have so much in common."

Charlie opened his mouth to reply, but stopped in surprise as a familiar presence washed over him. He started slightly, and then turned in his seat to look back in the direction they'd just come from, just in time to see Annie's mom's SUV turn onto their road. He blinked, suppressing a wince as Annie's worry and irritation slammed into him. Trying to cover his strange lapse, he turned back around to face his parents, who were now exchanging puzzled looks. "Did you invite Annie, too?"

Margaret blinked, "No, I—" she stopped as she flicked her gaze towards the road to see the same familiar car pulling up behind them, two familiar blondes' inside. "No, I didn't. But this is a nice surprise."

"I hope everything's alright," Alan murmured, shaking his head as he unbuckled his seatbelt and then opened the front passengers side door to slide out of his seat, his wife and son following his example. "An—Buffy, Joyce," he called as he started towards the two women, a warm smile stretched across his face. "This is a nice surprise."

"Good evening, Alan, Margaret, Charlie," Joyce nodded to teach of them as they met in the gap between their cars. "I hope we're not intruding?"

"Of course not," Margaret quickly reassured her, pulling the other mother into a quick hug, shaking her head as she stepped back and then moved to Annie, though her eyes remained on Joyce. "And I know I've told you to call me Maggie, Joyce."

"Of course, I'm sorry," the older Summers' apologized, stopping as she turned slightly towards the street when a taxi stopped in front of the house.

Charlie suppressed a groan as he watched his mentor and rival exit the vehicle, clearly splitting the price of the fare before making their way across the front yard towards the group standing in the driveway. But whatever thought had been developing on the matter suddenly abandoned him as he was hit by a wave of nervousness and growing resentment from his Princeton peer. He flinched back slightly from the onslaught.

"Good evening, Larry, Marshall." Margaret nodded to both, smiling widely.

"Hi," Annie spoke up before Charlie's mom could move to introduce her, smiling widely as she held a hand out towards the physicist. "I'm Annie O'Connor, Charlie's girlfriend. This is my mom, Joyce. You must be Larry Fleinhardt? Charlie's told me a lot abut you."

A part of Charlie was surprised at Joyce's easy acceptance at being introduced under a false name, and he wondered how much of that acceptance came from her knowledge of her daughter's Calling and how much of it was from the spell that'd been placed on the name O'Connor centuries before at Angeles' expense. Though the fact that none of the three parents there had blinked at Annie introducing herself as Charlie's girlfriend was much more surprising.

"Delighted, Miss—"

"Call me Annie," the blonde cut him off.

Larry nodded, smiling widely, "Then please call me Larry. Would you be the young lady that Charles' has been helping build a youth center in the inner city?"

Annie nodded, returning his smile. "That's me." She was still smiling as she shifted back to Charlie's side and slipped her arm through his, reaching down to grab his hand in a gentle grasp even as she sent a pulse of warm affection at him. She never held her hand out to Penfield to shake. "Though Lily and Charlie do most of the work. Have you been to _Angels House_?"

"I have not yet had the pleasure, I'm afraid," Larry shook his head. "I'm afraid Dr. Penfield and I were caught up in several meetings the last few days." Then he nodded his head towards Penfield, "I'm sure Charles has mentioned Dr. Penfield, as well?"

Annie cocked her head slightly to the side, but before she could say anything Penfield himself spoke up.

"Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if he hadn't." The slightly older scientist offered a clearly nervous grin at the pretty blonde. "We had many classes together, of course, but Princeton's rigorous program didn't leave too much free time for socializing. Especially for those that wanted to complete both the undergraduate and graduate programs in record time."

The backhanded flattery made Charlie blink in bewilderment, especially since he was still sensing a strange combination of negative emotions from his rival. Resentment and irritation strangely mixed with nervousness and a bit of lust.

Obviously, the first two were directed towards Charlie and the last was probably for the Slayer, but the third confused Charlie. The nervous could, also, be for Annie's presence, of course, but it was much stronger than Charlie thought it should be if that were the case.

His empathetic abilities were, of course, dulled quite a bit by Annie's presence; as they focused primarily on her, but the most distinct emotional reading he was getting from the older mathematician was still definitely nervousness.

But after a moment of thought he attributed that to a combination of meeting new people and Annie's presence; she was a very pretty girl, after all, and were it not for the unusual circumstances of their meeting Charlie, himself, probably never would have been comfortable approaching her, either. The high school prom queen and cheerleader captain—both of which most people would believe Annie could definitely be—girls like her didn't usually show much interest in nerds and geeks, even geniuses. The thought, combined with Penfield's own nerves, made Charlie shuffle a little uncomfortably. Despite the considerable plus their empathetic bond gave them, he sometimes still had trouble believing that this beautiful, heroic young woman would have any reason to be interested in him at all. Too many of the girl's he'd met in high school and college were only interested in getting his help with their homework, though in high school many had also used him as a way to meet his brother.

"That makes sense, I guess," Annie nodded, still smiling and her grip on Charlie's hand still solid. But as another wave of resentment and lust came off of Penfield, she released Charlie's hand and instead slipped her arm up and around his waist, leaning into his side as he wrapped an his arm around her slender shoulders, trying to not act surprised.

Disbelief now made its way into Penfield's emotional state, even as his resentment rose. Surprisingly, his facial expression was perfectly neutral.

"Well," Margaret drew their eyes, "I'd better head inside and check on our supper. I hope everyone likes Tzimmes?" (29)

* * *

_10152535019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**Joyce Summers' Car, California – Sunday, October 27, 1996**_

Joyce had of course kept most of her attention on driving home since they'd left the Eppes' house. Though they would have loved to accept the Eppes' invitation to spend the night and spend more time there, Buffy had missed far too much school recently, so it wasn't really an option.

Buffy hadn't been overly talkative since they left. Joyce would've thought she might be asleep, but she knew that sleep was one thing Buffy needed very little of since she became The Slayer. And that this time of night, when she and Faith normally patrolled Sunnydale's dark streets, was when she was at her most alert. And undoubtedly feeling very trapped in the car.

So maybe it wouldn't be too bad of her to bring up the subject she'd been excitedly, curiously thinking over since they left. Even if it embarrassed her daughter. "You really couldn't resist, could you?"

Buffy's answer was immediate, she didn't need to ask what her mother was talking about. But then again, her daughter introducing herself as Charlie's girlfriend—even if it was just to antagonize Charlie's rival—was surely something she knew had to interest her mother. "No, no I couldn't.

Joyce was quiet for several long seconds, but then her excited curiosity got the better of her again, "So are you two going to be dating now?"

"Would I mind if we were?" Buffy finally glanced at her mother, shaking her head slightly. "No."

"But?" Joyce frowned slightly, keeping her eyes on the road. Hoping the lack of obvious scrutiny would help her daughter open up more.

"Well, he'll be a teacher; teaching at a _college_ soon. Probably not the college I'm going to be going to, but I'll still be a college _student_ in L.A. It might—"

"That's only because he's such a gifted young man, honey. You can't hold that against him. Especially since he's barely a year older than you. And he's such a sweet, interesting person, too. I like him."

She could hear the smile in Buffy's voice, "I'm glad." Then the teen sighed. "I don't hold it against him. I'm really excited for him: he's so happy to be going into teaching soon. It's the only job he's ever really wanted and he's even at the college he wanted originally."

Knowing it was there again, Joyce added, "But?"

"I don't want to make it hard for him. I mean, he's already worried about the fact that the only students he'll be older than are the freshmen. I don't want to do anything that might make the faculty or his students give him a harder time."

Joyce chuckled, "That's good of you, Buffy. But I don't think you and Charlie dating would hurt him in any way. Sure, it might make some guys jealous of Charlie, but most men _like_ that. I doubt Charlie's the exception."

"I guess—" she stopped abruptly and started digging through her coat pocket. It was only when she pulled out her cell phone that Joyce realized it'd been vibrating. The subtler signs of her daughter's supernatural abilities sometimes threw her off more than the big things. "Faith? Are you alr—" Buffy paused for a second, and her worry gave way to curiosity after whatever Faith had said registered. "Yeah, we're on our way back now. We should be in town soon. When did you get a cell?" She paused again for Faith, and then released a disgruntled sigh. "Charlie sent you one?" She shook her head. "No, I'm not mad at you. Just a little annoyed with him. If he's not careful I might start to think he's trying to buy me or something." She shook her head again, laughing softly, "No, not really, I guess."

Joyce shook her head too, smiling as she glanced at the mile marker they were passing. They'd be home soon.

* * *

_2216625019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**General Hospital, Sunnydale, California – Monday, October 28, 1996**_

Buffy sighed, shaking her head slightly as she watched the Englishwoman stubbornly sulk, head turned away from her three visitors and radiating hostile emotions that Buffy was having a lot of trouble understanding as she watched Post glare at the wall.

"The Council's recovery team will be arriving shortly," Giles told his countrywoman after several long moments of silence.

"I know," Post replied, her tone short. Emotionally, her hostile output remained almost the same, tinged only a little bit with hopelessness and some fear. But both emotions vanished quickly under the much more ferocious jealousy and rage the woman was keeping bottled up inside.

Buffy shook her head, "Can't you at least tell us why? I mean, you're human. And you used to be a Watcher, so you must've known—"

"Do you know what I was before I was a Watcher?" Post cut her off, finally turning to face her audience.

Buffy shook her head slowly. "No. I don't."

"Me neither," Faith interjected, a bit of curiosity pulsing off her but not showing up in her voice or in any visible outlet. She still had to arms crossed over her chest, a forcibly neutral expression locked on her face.

"Dr. Giles?"

Giles sighed. "Your ancestral family has not been with the Council for quite as many generations as mine, Mrs. Post. Though your late husbands has. Still, I would think it a safe assumption to assume you'd been raised to eventually become a Watcher, just like I was. The Council doesn't let go of family very easily."

"No, they don't." Post agreed, her tone deadened. "But I wasn't raised to be a Watcher. That was my fallback career."

Buffy sensed Giles' surprised realization before he voiced it.

"You were a Potential."

Post nodded.

"A what?" Buffy and Faith asked at the same time.

"A, um, a candidate for the next Slayer, you could say," Giles told them, his glasses once again slipping off his face and finding their way into the handkerchief he'd pulled from his pocket with the ease of long practice.

Post scoffed, "A candidate? You make is sound so commonplace, Dr. Giles. Like my life wasn't tied to that one kismet and nothing else in my world should matter. Like I wan't raised to believe I was destined for the greatest of destinies, only to be told after _years_ of training and tests and nightmares that I obviously wasn't good enough!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Waitaminute." Buffy held her hands up slightly to stop the older blonde's tirade. "You mean you _wanted_ to be a Slayer?"

"My father, Thomas Lloyd, died when I was three while on patrol with his Slayer, Justine Eaton, in Australia. My mother wasn't from a Watcher family, but she believed in the cause completely. Even though the Council didn't identify me as a Potential Slayer until shortly after my seventh birthday, mother had been preparing me for the destiny for years. She was so _sure_ I was going to be one of the greatest Slayers that'd ever lived." The middle-aged woman shook her head. "She died when I was eight, the same year Nikki Wood was called in the United States. To her dying day, mother was always so certain I'd become the best Slayer ever."

After several seconds of silence, Faith spoke up, sounding a lot more detached from the discussion than she actually was. "So you dedicated your life to something that wasn't possible?"

Post sneered, her jealousy spiking as she continued. "Wood didn't die until shortly after my seventeenth birthday. Even after she'd gotten herself preggers during her second year as the Slayer. She somehow managed to conceal her pregnancy and continue to perform her duties."

"Gee," Faith immediately sneered back, "don't sound so happy about it. Such a tragedy, a Slayer managing to both do her job well and have a life at the same time."

Buffy reached back slightly to catch one of Faith's hands, giving it a gentle squeeze while shaking her head, silently signaling for her sister slayer's silence.

"You can't understand," Post shook her head again, a bit of dejection slipping into her voice. "How could you? Either of you. _**You**__ were __**Chosen**_." She continued quickly, her words coming more and more rapidly as she did so. "I could've been Called. If not for Wood. But even with her, I was seventeen when she died. Just barely young enough. I should've been—"

"But you weren't Called," Giles cut her off, shaking his head sadly. Though he still had a great deal of irritation and anger towards this woman, he was starting to feel a bit sympathetic, which Buffy couldn't understand at all and she could sense that Faith couldn't either. "Lana Pajari was. And you were too old by the time she died."

Post looked away, scowling. "Yes."

A heavy silence hung around them for several long moments, before Giles decided to break it. "Given your history with dark magic, the Council shan't let you off this time."

"I don't expect them to."

"They might be persuaded to at least let you live, should you have anything worthwhile to offer?"

Buffy and Faith both shot their watcher shocked looks. The Council was going to _kill_ Post? Buffy wanted to protest that idea, but held her tongue, shooting Faith a look to keep her quiet as well.

Post laughed darkly. "I have nothing to offer them. Save information that they undoubtedly already know more than not. They already know about The Fallen. They just don't really care."

Faith spoke before Buffy could, one eyebrow raised, "The Fallen?"

"Women like Michaela and I, who were raised as potentials and then all but abandoned when we weren't Chosen. Most, like me, became Watchers but quickly grew bitter and left the Watchers to seek better fortunes. To empower ourselves outside of the Council's influence."

"Can't say I'm a major fan of the Council, really," Buffy offered, shrugging when her Watcher looked at her. "What? You're great, Giles. But everyone else seems pretty useless to me. I mean, it's not like they've ever been much help when you've called for it. They don't even really help with research, from what I can see. Anytime a big bad comes around we assemble the Scoobies. We don't call Tweed-land."

Post chuckled darkly, and she was sneering as she spoke. "Are you actually attempting to sympathize with me, Miss Summers? I don't need your pity."

"Maybe not," Buffy shrugged, sighing a bit sadly. "But that doesn't mean it's wrong for _me_, for _us_, to recognize something that's clearly wrong." She shook her head. "How else is it gonna get changed?"

One golden and somehow entirely English eyebrow rose, "Changed? You think you can convince _the Council_ to change a regimen and mindset that has worked for centuries?" She shook her head. "Though I'd love to see you try, child, I'm quite sure you are over estimating your abilities. And your value."

"Mrs. Post—" Giles tried to object, but Post cut him off.

"_Really_, Dr. Giles, you'd do well to make these children recognize the boundaries they cannot break. Before they do something the Council is unwilling to forgive. After all," the older woman shook her head again. "If it comes down to it, it wouldn't be the first time the Council has executed a Slayer for 'the greater good' or some such rationale. And it certainly will not be the last."

"Execu—"

Buffy cut Faith off, hissing under her breath at a volume that only the other Slayer could hear. "Not now, Faith." Then she continued more loudly. "I've faced assassins before. And I've worked with the Council's best men."

"That doesn't make you invulnerable, girl. Though the Council may have some difficulty bringing you down, that doesn't mean it's impossible. And it certainly doesn't mean they won't try if you force them to."

A knock at the door startled everyone in the room, and the twenty-something, blond man that opened it immediately found himself the focus of four different pairs of eyes.

The blond nodded to Giles, then in Buffy and Faith's direction. "Dr. Giles, Miss Summers, Miss Lehane. Gregory Shaw, from England. I'm here to handle Mrs. Post's transfer."

"Of course, Mr. Shaw. I've been expecting you." Giles nodded to the younger man, shooting the two slayers quick looks to keep them quiet. "But first, may I see some identification?"

Buffy wasn't about to say anything though, she was too confused. Because Post had felt so _relieved_ when this man from the Council walked in. Given that Giles said the Council might very well kill her it seemed like a very odd reaction...

"Of course," the younger man agreed, reaching into an inside coat pocket to pull out his wallet, flipping it open to show Giles a weird looking drivers license. Probably a British license. It had the man's picture there, though, and the name Shaw, Gregory, clearly printed, so it served its purpose.

"Very good," Giles nodded to the young man, and then raised an eyebrow slightly. "I trust you have back-up? Even with one arm, Mrs. Post _is_ a fairly powerful magic-user."

"Thanks for the compliment, Dr. Giles," Post spoke up before Shaw could reply. "But I'm weaker than a kitten right now. So little Shaw here may need help carrying me out, but not because I'm gonna put up a fight."

"Perhaps," Shaw nodded to Post's protest first, before answering Giles question. "But yes, I do have a team on hand to help, of course. The Council is very diligent about... matters such as these."

"Of course," Giles nodded again, before moving towards the door. "We'll be on our way then. Safe journey to you both. Ladies?"

"A moment," Shaw spoke up again, raising a hand slightly as Faith started to follow Giles out. "May I say it is, of course, an honor to meet you both?"

Buffy and Faith both nodded, then Faith moved towards the door Giles was holding ajar for them again, stepping through it before him.

Buffy met Giles eyes for a second, "Go on, Giles. I'll be out in a minute."

Her Watcher frowned at her, but complied, closing the door behind him.

Buffy immediately turned her eyes back to 'Mr. Shaw' who was watching her curiously. "Who are you?"

He blinked at her, "I beg your pardon, Miss Summers. Dr. Gi—"

"An ID and knowing our names might be enough to fool my Watcher, Mister-Whatever-Your-Name-Really-Is, but not me. Post, here, was way to relieved to see you for you to actually be the Council guy that's supposed to be picking her up. So who are you?"

'Shaw' glanced at Post, who was staring at Buffy, her eyes wide.

"How did you—"

Buffy cut Post off, "I was good at reading people before I became the Slayer. Now I'm _very_ good at it." She raised an eyebrow at the man. "Well? Are you with The Fallen, too?"

'Shaw' immediately turned a frown towards Post. "You told them—"

"The Council already knows about us St—Gregory. There's little harm in the Slayers knowing, too."

The blond shook his head, turning pleading hazel eyes to the Slayer. "I'm sure Gwen is sorry for what she did, Miss Summers. But surely you don't think she deserves to die for it?"

"She tried to kill me. And Faith." Buffy protested, though her heart wasn't really in it. Not when she could sense the fear that was now radiating off of the two people in front of her. "She hurt Giles. And she killed the other woman that was—"

"Michaela was a spy," Post spat, adding when whatever-his-name-was looked at her, "For the Order of Anarchia *. I'm sure the only reason she hadn't killed me already was because I'd convinced her that the Slayers might come after us, and she didn't know if she could take them by herself. That's why I wanted you to meet us at the border. Make it harder for her to try and kill me and take the glove for herself, and her friends." (28)

The guy nodded, "I see." Then he sighed and looked over at Buffy again, his eyes pleading. "Please, Miss Summers. We do not have the time to explain. If the Council finds me here, they'll kill both of us without a second thought."

"But Post—"

"I'm sure you've been told she's to receive a fair trial," the guy nodded. "But she won't. _Fair_ would imply that she'd be judged by those with an open mind. But that certainly won't be the case. She's already been judged, all they've to do now is schedule her execution." He shook his head, "We're at war, for lack of a better word, because we want change. We don't like the way the Council works, the rules Watchers are supposed to live by. And the Council can't accept the idea of change."

"The Fallen aren't just ex-potentials," Post murmured. "It's basically all ex-Watchers who've turned against the Council. They think of us as traitors, and they hate us much more than any demons or vampires."

Buffy nodded slowly, then she moved over to the clipboard that had all of Post's information on it, picking it up and quickly scribbling her email out across a blank corner, before tearing off that corner piece off and setting the clipboard back where she'd gotten this. She held the small paper out to Post, "That's my email. I wanna hear from you. Soon. Call yourself Poppins."

Post stared at her for a long second, before finally accepting the small piece of paper, nodding slowly. "As soon as I'm able, I promise."

Sensing she was sincere, Buffy nodded and then spun on her heel and hurried out of the room. It took her barely a few minutes to reach the lobby, where Giles was waiting for her.

"Is something the matter, Buffy?" He asked, the concern he was feeling also audible.

The Slayer shook her head, "No, everything's fine." She glanced around. "Where's Faith?"

Giles nodded his head towards the nearby clock. "It's almost sundown. She thought she might start the first patrol a bit early this evening."

Buffy nodded, "Yeah, she'd mentioned that." She rolled her shoulders a bit, before asking, "Did she say where she's gonna start?"

"Rosefield Cemetery."

"K," Buffy nodded, turning towards the door. "I'm gonna see if I can catch her. We'll check in with ya later, Giles."

"Buffy, are you sure—"

"I'm _fine_, Giles. I just wanna catch up with Faith now, OK? See ya later." Without waiting for a reply, Buffy moved off at a brisk walk.

For some reason she was quite sure she wanted to get out of the hospital before the real Council guys showed up. And it wasn't just because she didn't want to spend any more time in a hospital than she had to. She wasn't sure what it was. It wasn't that she'd be in danger here, or she'd never have left Giles behind.

As it turns out, she was right on time. Because when she pushed open the main door to leave the building, she saw a blond guy that looked about the same age as the not-Shaw, all dressed up in the Council's beloved tweed, with several men all in black behind him. One of the men in black was Alistair Collins.

The tweed-guy barely glanced at her, though he clearly recognized her in that glance, and literally turned his nose up at her, making her blink. Collins and the other men in black, on the other hand, all nodded to her respectfully as they moved past her and into the hospital.

Buffy almost stopped, thinking of trying to slow them down to give Post and whatever-his-name-was more time to escape. But she couldn't think of any way to do that that wasn't entirely obvious, and knew that it wasn't the kind of attention she wanted to bring on herself and her friends at the moment.

So she kept walking across the lot, sending a silent wish for Post and her rescuer to get away and for Giles to escape this unscathed.

Then, once she'd reached the woodsy area on the side, she started to run, headed for Rosefield Cemetery in the southeastern corner of town.

* * *

_41514019__000161591420000156000229523_

_**FBI Headquarters, Los Angeles, California – Tuesday, October 29, 1996**_

Don shook his head as he followed his partner into the bar he'd picked out. "I still don't get why you want ta come here, Coop. I mean, I thought you wanted to work?"

"I do," the older agent confirmed as he swung an arm around Don's shoulders. "But I know I'm not gonna get much use outta you until you've had a chance ta unwind. So that's what we're doin' tonight. Unwindin'."

Don groaned and rolled his eyes, "Coop, getting me drunk is _not_ gonna make me forget that my little brother is in some kind of trouble."

"Probably not," Coop agreed, nodding serenely. "But there's nothing you can do about that, is there? Not unless you wanna loose your job or try to wrestle it out of your brother; which we probably cou—"

"We're not interrogating my brother," Don cut him off, shaking his head. Privately adding, '_Not yet, at least._' He didn't know exactly what Charlie was involved in, that was the problem. And if he went at him head on and found out that his gut was wrong, there was no telling how much damage he could do to the already hurting and distant relationship he had with his genius-kid brother.

"Suit yourself. Offers always open though." Coop said, pushing him into a barstool as he finished. "As long as you don't do anything to get us stuck on desk work under pounds of papers again anytime soon."

"Roger that," Don agreed, shaking his head. He nodded as the bartender stopped in front of him. "Budweiser, unopened can, thanks."

"Same," Coop nodded and nodded again as the bartender handed him and then Don their unopened beers. He raised an eyebrow after the bartender had moved away form them. "Feelin' a bit paranoid, are we?"

Don sighed, shaking his head even as he opened the beer and threw his head back to have gravity help him take a long gulp from the can before sitting upright again as he swallowed. "Can you really blame me?" He shrugged, "I've never thought of myself as a conspiracy nut. I mean, it's not like I went looking for this thing, but as far as I can tell someone way up the food chain doesn't want me looking after my little brother."

"And you can't stand that," Cooper nodded, taking a sip from his own beer before continuing. "Though, to be fair, it's not your brother's mugging the higher ups were throwing a hissy-fit over."

"I know," Don sighed again. "It was Sunnydale. But it just doesn't make sense!"

"I know, I know," Coop cut in before the younger agent could really get into it again. "But what can you do about it, huh? Nothing." He held up a hand to forestall protests as he took another sip of beer, then continued after he swallowed. "I'm not saying you should forget that your little bro might be in trouble, Don. I'm just sayin' that you're not gonna be much help to him if you lose your job trying to uncover something that _might_ not affect him at all."

Don sighed, nodding slowly. "I know, I know. I do. I just," he shook his head as he took another sip of his beer also. "I can't just let it go, Coop."

"Then don't. Don't let it go." The older agent advised, smilingly a little at the slightly shocked look his words earned him before he continued. "Put it on hold. For a couple a months, maybe a year or two."

"But—"

"As far as you can figure is Charlie in any danger right now?"

"Well, no, but—"

"But nothing. Mightn't your investigation bring more scrutiny onto you, and your family, your brother included, than is really safe for the kid?"

"Oh, so now you're a conspiracy nut, too?"

"I just call 'em like I see 'em." Coop threw back his head to finish off his beer in a few more gulps, drawing in a somewhat satisfied breath as he sat up again. He held his empty can up, waving it around a little until he had the bartender's attention. "'Nother Bud."

Don waited until the bartender had come, left two new beers and gone, finishing off his own beer as he waited and reaching down to open the second as he replied. "You know, there was this one time, a few years ago—Charlie and I weren't in high school yet. I think he was in fourth grade and they were talking about moving him up again while I was in junior high. Anyway, my Mom wanted me to keep an eye on Charlie all the time. Make sure he got home and everything. She even made me take Charlie to baseball practice with me."

"That must've gone over well," Coop commented, his tone dry with sarcasm.

"Yeah, like oil and water," Don snorted, before continuing. "Anyway, mosta the time it wasn't too bad. I mean, he usually just sat in the bleachers working in his notebooks. The team and I mostly just pretended he wasn't there."

"But that wasn't always the case."

"No," Don nodded. "Sometimes, Charlie really wanted to be involved, I guess. You know, do whatever big brother's doing. So he'd try to help. He'd start analyzing us. Our plays, our stances, anything and everything he could think of. And he could think of a lot. Then he'd try to explain his findings." He shook his head. "Made most of us jocks feel like complete idiots. Even the coach, who was a college grad and everything, didn't have a clue what he was talking about for the most part." He cocked his head to the side a bit. "Though, looking back on it, coach did try to listen to him. Even tried some of the changes Charlie suggested."

"Did you?"

Don snorted again, "Not if I could help it. No, I always thought that Charlie was _trying_ to make me feel stupid. And succeeding, most of the time. Still, I was used to that. So most of the time I just ignored him, or told him to go back to the bleachers a few times. I usually didn't have to repeat myself more than two or three times before he hung his head and shuffled back over there. But this one time," he shook his head. "I'd had a really crappy day. Had a nasty cold, left my homework at home for two classes, bombed a pop quiz in Algebra and embarrassed the hell out of myself in Spanish when we had these presentations that I'd completely forgotten about." He sighed. "Then I had baseball practice."

"Where Charlie was in a helpful mood again."

Don nodded, sighing. "He can be so _happy_ sometimes, when he's talking about his math. And—now he's not as bad, I guess he figured out in college that he was a lot smarter than most people, but—he used to really think that math was easy for everyone. Like we all should understand whatever the hell he was talking about, and he was usually hurt when we didn't get one word in twenty when he was describing whatever it was." He threw back his head a bit, draining at least a third of the beer before sitting up again and setting the can on the bar. "So, anyway, Charlie wanted to be helpful. So he did all of his analysis stuff. Then he came over when we were on a water break and started going on about how I wasn't standing right when I was batting. My center of gravity wasn't positioned right, or something like that." He shook his head. "I completely blew up at him. Just started shouting my head off at him, about him trying to make me feel like an idiot, and—you get the picture."

"He hang his head and head back to the bleachers?"

Don shook his head, "I don't know; I didn't look. Just threw my water bottle down and stormed back to practice." He took another sip of his beer. "Twenty minutes later, one of my teammates asked me where Charlie was. Looked over in the bleachers, and Charlie wasn't there." He shook his head. "Charlie was about seven then, and every time we hear about a kid getting snatched, my mind goes back to that day. When I was supposed to look out for him, but chose not to."

"Where'd he go?" Coop asked, his tone hesitantly curious. "I mean, I assume he wasn't kidnapped. I think I'd of heard about somethin' like that by now."

"No, he wasn't kidnapped. The twerp decided to go home, since his being at my baseball practice bothered me so much. Never mind that mom'd rip me a new one for sending him home by himself when neither she or my dad would be there, either. Since they both got out of work around the same time baseball practice let out." He finished off his second can of beer, rolling his shoulders a bit as he swallowed the last gulp, the bitter sensation on the back of his tongue disappearing almost instantly. "Anyway, I flipped out and ran right out of practice. Coach was pissed. Though he let it go pretty quickly after my mom let him have it for not keeping an eye on Charlie. Apparently he was s'posed to."

"Somethin' else happened though, right? Otherwise you wouldn't feel so guilty about it."

"Yeah, well," Don shook his head. "I ran outta practice towards the house, hopin' to catch up with him. If I'd caught 'im near the school I probably woulda dragged his ass back to the field. But he wasn't, and the closer I got to home the more worried I got."

"Worried he wouldn't be there?"

"I guess, somewhat. But I was also worried about him walking home all by himself." Don accepted a third can of beer from the bartender with a nod of thanks, quickly popping it open and taking a sip before continuing. "There was this kid that was a few years younger than me. A few years older than Charlie. Our house _was_ in walking distance of the school, though it was a long walk. This kid was a bully, and he hated Charlie. Would make fun of him and stuff whenever they ran into each other. Had been doing it for years. Sometimes he'd push him around a little, too. But never more than that. Not when I was there."

"Not when you were there, huh?" Coop nodded, taking a sip from his third beer can. "So I take it the little bully caught littler Charlie out by himself?"

Don sighed, nodding. "Charlie's never admitted it. He was in the upstairs bathroom when I got home, trying to get his lip to stop bleeding." He shook his head, "The little bastard had worked him over pretty good, too. Black eye, busted lip, bruises all over. Did somethin' to his leg, too, 'cause Charlie limped for a couple a weeks."

"But he never admitted who beat him up?" Coop asked, clearly surprised by that idea. "Not even when your mom and dad got home?"

"Not even for them," Don shook his head. "The only thing he ever said about it was that night, after mom and dad had yelled at me for it. He came into my room and said he was sorry he got me in trouble, that mom and dad should've yelled at him for not staying at the field, not at me." He sighed, "But he never admitted that it was Wilson who'd worked him over."

"Wilson?" Coop repeated, blink in surprise. "Wait, Tommie Wilson? The first case we took out here in California? Parole violation, armed robbery and all that? That Wilson?"

"Yeah, Tommie Wilson." Don shrugged, "I told the director that I used to go to school with the con, but he decided it didn't matter. So we kept the case."

"Huh," Coop breathed, shaking his head again as he took another long sip of his beer. "Surprised you didn't take a swing at him when we brought him in. You had ta know I woulda backed you up by then."

Don chuckled, "Thought about it. But didn't feel like starting my way down that slippery slope just yet. And it's not like he even remembered me."

"With all the heroin he'd shot into himself over the years? And the amount that was in his system when we found him? I doubt he'd of recognized his own mother, if she cared to see him, that is."

"Yeah," Don chuckled again, finishing off the third can of beer. But he shook his head when the bartender came his way with another beer. "Water, bottled, please." He shook his head again when his partner glared at him. "We're back to hunting fugitives, remember? Do you really want to start a hunt hung-over tomorrow?"

"'Spose not," Cooper agreed, and then raised an eyebrow at him. "So am I still gonna be hearing about Sunnydale whenever my eyes are open?"

Don was quiet for a long moment again, and then he sighed. "No, I guess not. You're right. I can't help Charlie by losing my job." He unscrewed the top to the Dasani the bartender had brought him and threw his head back like he had earlier, quickly gulping about half of the bottle down before coming up for air. "I'm not letting it go though."

"Wasn't expecting you to. Said as much, didn't I?"

Don nodded, "I'm not letting it go. But I'll let it rest... for now."

* * *

_**End of Frienemies – Part III.**_

* * *

_**Notes From Within The Chapter**__**:**_

_**(1) **__'Rosetta Codex' is a reference to the Rosetta Stone. If you don't know what that is without looking it up, you should probably study ancient history at least a little bit. But for a quick explanation of it: The Rosetta Stone is a stone slab that helped linguists decipher Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. It has a message carves on it three times, once in Demotic Egyptian script, once in Egyptian hieroglyphics and once in classical Greek. It's been on display at The British Museum since 1802. (And I can't BELIEVE I didn't go there when I was in London! _ I went to the Louvre, in Paris, but didn't go to the British Museum. *kicks self*) (URL: .org/wiki/Rosetta_Stone)_

_**(2) **__Rashid, Egypt is where French soldiers found the Rosetta Stone in 1799. "Rosetta" is an anglicized version of the name Rashid—according to Wikipedia. I looked up both as names, and Rashid is a male Arabic name meaning 'Rightly Guard' while Rosetta is a diminutive of Rosa, meaning 'Rose.' So I'm not sure how they got one from the other, but... __(URL: .org/wiki/Rosetta_Stone) _

_(3) "Tauo freim!" means "Be free!" in Gaelic, according to the script of BTVS.S3.E7 'Revelations.' Personally, I find the idea of some maniac running around yelling "Be free!" to shoot lightning as people hilarious, but maybe that's just me. And that's what Joss used, so I just stuck with it._

_**(4) **__Twenty-four Vertebrae and Invertebral Discs - When it came to the information on the human anatomy, I was really pretty lazy. Mostly just thought back to the biology class I took back in high school and checked a few quick things on Wikipedia. (URL: .org/wiki/Intervertebral_disc)_

_**(5) **__When Buffy was thinking about the lightning: I was specifically thinking about 'ground-to-cloud lightning.' Which "is a lightning discharge between the ground and a cumulonimbus cloud initiated by an upward-moving leader stroke. It is much rarer than cloud-to-ground lightning." This thought was mostly just something I threw in because it'd irritated me while watching the episode, especially since one of my cousins adamantly insists that lightning always moves from the ground into the sky. Since this wasn't really that important, I mostly just used Wikipedia to research this, but the article seemed to be pretty thorough. And according to that article, my cousin is wrong and there's actually a LOT of different kinds of lightning. And while the most frequently occurring is intra-cloud lightning, cloud-to-ground lightning is "…the best known and second most common type of lightning…[probably because] it poses the greatest threat to life and property since it strikes the ground. Cloud-to-ground lightning is a lightning discharge between a cumulonimbus cloud and the ground. It is initiated by a leader stroke moving down from the cloud." This research also made me decide that Buffy and Faith really had to keep their distance from Post and the glove, since the atmospheric electrical discharge of lightning "can travel at speeds of" up to 130,000 miles per hour, or "60,000 [meters per second], and can reach temperatures approaching" 54,000 degrees Fahrenheit or "30,000 [degrees Celsius], hot enough to fuse silica sand into class channels known as fulgurites..." I already knew about the glass-forming thing from a movie, but the actual temperature and speeds surprised me. Thus, even though Slayers can move very, very fast I thought faster than lightning would be pushing it. Though I actually couldn't find a good range for just how fast they'd have to be to dodge bullets, Joss has them doing it in the Season 8 comic, so they'll probably be able to here, too. Though I may stick to the needing a build up of adrenaline to perform such feet's, we'll have to wait and see. (URL: .org/wiki/Lightning)_

**(6)**_ Size of Sunnydale (25.57 square kilometers or 15.89 square miles) – According to Wikipedia, the population in Sunnydale at this point in the canon was around 38,500 (URL: .org/wiki/Sunnydale)._

_I couldn't find an actual area for the made-up town, so I made one up myself._

_I looked at the sizes of towns in California for a little bit, but couldn't find one that had a population around 40,000, just a lot of counties that did. However, Sunnydale was never labeled a Californian county, just a small town. Therefore, I figured for the population to fit without it feeling like a city, the town itself had to be fairly spread-out. I figured a rounded number would look odd, since Charlie would have no trouble remembering decimals. So 15.89 square-miles sounded good. If anyone knows an actual size, I'd love to hear it._

_**(7) **__Refractive index – "Refraction is the change in direction of a wave" (__light__/sound/water) "due to a change in its speed... Refraction of light is the most commonly observed phenomenon, but any type of wave can refract when it interacts with a medium, for example when sound waves pass from one medium into another or when water moves into water of a different depth. Refraction is described by Snell's law..." _

"_The Refractive index...of a medium is a measure of how much the speed of light (or other waves such as sound waves) is reduced inside the medium. For example, typical soda-lime glass has a refractive index close to 1.5, which means that in glass, light travels at 1/1.5 = 2/3 the speed of light in a vacuum. Two common properties of glass and other transparent materials are directly related to their refractive index. First, light rays change direction when they cross the interface from air to the material, an effect that is used in lenses. Second, light reflects partially from surfaces that have a refractive index different from that of their surroundings."_

_But, basically, this was just might attempt to actually get Charlie thinking about some of the math he's supposed to always be thinking about. I ended up using this, but I'm not entirely sure I liked what I ended up with. _

_Oh! If you have any ideas of different kinds of things Charlie might think about, study, teach, etc., please feel free to mention it! I NEED that kind of stuff to keep Charlie in character. (URL: .org/wiki/Refractive_index)_

_**(8) **__How long has humanity been here?_

_Definitely an interesting topic. I, personally, believe in evolution. That we did evolve from chimps, which I think MOST people accept, though I have met some who don't accept the idea. At all. So if you're one of those people, I really don't mean to offend you. All of my fan fics are based on what I believe, what I know and what I can research, but I don't really want to offend anyone in the process. So if I somehow have, I apologize._

"_The term "human" in the context of human evolution refers to" Homo sapiens, "but studies of human evolution usually include other hominids, such as the Australopithecines. The genus Homo had diverged from the Australopithecines… about 2.3 to 2.4 million years ago in Africa. Scientists have estimated that humans branched off from their common ancestor with chimpanzees—the only other living hominids—about 5 to 7 million years ago." So we're VERY distant cousins, which I think is understandably the part a lot of people have trouble accepting even before you try and work religions into the mix. "Several species of Homo evolved and are now extinct… Archaic Homo sapiens evolved between 400,000 and 250,000 years ago…"_

_Why is this at all relevant for my fan fic? Well, you'll be seeing more dates, eras and whatnot like that in the future, as Charlie starts researching the Slayer line and The Balance more and more. _

_Essentially, I'm saying humanity appeared in this world overrun with demons and eventually started to be strong enough to fight back with magic and the like. But nothing really happened until the Slayer was created—with Sineya. _

_So how long ago was that? At the moment I'm thinking about 250,000 years. But I opened to other ideas as well. _

_**(9)**__ The Supercontinent = Pangaea, which existed about 250 million years ago, when all of the continents were one big content. Due to continental drifting (from the tectonic plates that are ever moving because they sit on top of heavily compressed liquid), the continents later (and still are) drifting apart, but scientists do believe that there was a point in time when they were all one. If nothing else, the Wikipedia article is worth checking out because of the animation-thing they've got for it. It's kind of neat to watch. But, again, maybe that's just me. :-P (URL: .org/wiki/Pangaea)_

_**(10) **__The Panthalass = The Super-Ocean, or the Earth's oceans when all of the continents were together, with the waters of the world around them. _

_(URL: .org/wiki/Panthalassa)_

_**(11-13) **__are some of the possible names for the fire-kitty. Most of which I already listed the prudent background information for within the dialogue of the chapter itself. If you want to know more, feel free to follow the links or Google the names yourself. _

_**(11) **__Bast – (URL: .com/name/bast)_

_**(12)**__ Bastet – (URL: .org/wiki/Bastet_(mythology))_

_**(13)**__ Vesta – (URL: .com/name/vesta)_

_**(14)**__ The Dark Congress – Those of you that took my advice and read __Dark Congress__ by Christopher Golden before now undoubtedly recognize the ideas I've taken from it. Honestly, I wasn't originally planning on mentioning it this early in the series; it was actually a storyline I was going to get into in between the end of Buffy/Angel and the start of NUMB3RS. Since there's almost a decade between the two, I need a few ideas for what to do with everyone in the interim. I mean, Mrs. Eppes' had only just recently died at the start of NUMB3RS Season 1, so even that is only within the year or two before I start going into the NUMB3RS series._

_Nonetheless, __Dark Congress__ jumped up at me when I was writing the scene about The Balance/etc., and it seemed to fit too well for me to drop it. Though I won't be staying entirely true to it, I'll really just be borrowing ideas and probably a few characters (such as Kandida, since she was a pretty interesting one, even though we barely saw her in the book). But other than that, the book isn't really a determining factor for anything I'm writing. It's just something related to Buffy that I'm getting ideas from._

_**(15) I went looking for "water demons" and "desert demons" and, for the most part, came up empty. The following, however, are some of the "water demons" I found in Judy Allen's **__**Fantasy Encyclopedia**__**:**_

_**(A & B) **__Undines & Nereids – Water Elementals "…rarely seen, although they may sometimes become visible drifting in the spray from waterfalls or the mist that rises from the surface of the water at dawn or dusk." (p31)_

_**(C)**__ Sirens – "The Sirens had the bodies and feet of birds, but they had the faces and upper bodies of beautiful women. They lived on a small, barren island off southern Italy. They were famous for the beauty of their singing voices, which offered knowledge of the past and future to all who heard them. Despite this, they were deadly. Mariners, lured to the island by their singing, found the Sirens surrounded by the bones and corpses of their earlier victims and knew that they were trapped…" (p72)_

_**(D)**__ Naiads – Sea Nymphs – "daughters of Nereus, the wise old man of the sea" ... they live in the Mediterranean Sea "and, unlike the Sirens... they are helpful to those who sail across it. The nymphs who live in the wide oceans are called Oceanids, while the Naiads are the spirits of running water, from springs and streams to great rivers." (p32-33)_

_**(16) **__Azazel – Seriously the only 'desert demon' I could find any kind of mention of… and I DID look. "Azathoth is a deity in the __Cthulhu Mythos__ and __Dream Cycle__ stories of H.P. Lovecraf and other authors… Mythos editor Robert M. Price argues that Lovecraft could have combined the biblical names Anathoth (Jeremiah's home town) and Azazel (a desert demon to which the scapegoat was sacrificed—mentioned by Lovecraft in "The Dunwich Horror")." (URL: .org/wiki/Azathoth)_

_**(17)**__ Exsiccare – __Latin for "dry out." I honestly couldn't find stories of 'desert demons' other than Lovecraft's Azathoth and I wanted more than one in there, so I made one up._

_**(18-21 & 24)**__ – are all from the same URL, which is to the Wikipedia article on the History of Technology. (URL: .org/wiki/History_of_technology)_

_**(18)**__ Stone Tools – Apparently our distant ancestors started using stone tools of varying kinds millions of years ago. They used stones as scrapers to butcher dead animals about 2.5 million years ago. They crafted things like hand-axes as early as 1.6 million years ago. Though our branch of Homo—or Homo sapiens sapiens—only came into being about 200,000 years ago and were still relying mostly on stone tools 100,000 years ago. On the other hand, there's evidence that the 'creation' and manipulation of fire was used 1.5 million years ago._

_**(19)**__ Clothes – The idea of wearing things like clothes, primarily as protection from the elements, is only about 100,00 years old. *blink**blink* Pretty scary, when you consider that that probably only means things like loin-clothes._

_**(20)**__ The bow & arrow was used as far back as the ninth century BCE, which is about 11,000 years ago. _

_**(21)**__ Agriculture – Our ancestors started growing their food in about 8,000 BCE—or about 10,000 years ago. They were merely hunters and gatherers before that. Though they did, apparently, domesticate animals as early as 15,000 BCE._

_**(22) **__Firearms:_

_Gunpowder was used by the Chinese military forces there for things like rockets as far back as the mid-eighth century. It was probably discovered by an alchemist. (URL: .org/wiki/History_of_gunpowder)_

_The predecessor for actual firearms was the fire-lance, which was a tube filled with gunpowder and attached tot eh end of a spear to be used as a flamethrower of sorts. This was used in China in the mid-10th century. _

_The oldest surviving __gun__ was made of bronze and made in 1288. Smaller, portable hand-held canons were introduced in Europe in the late 1400s. _

_Automatic guns like we see today apparently weren't at all practical until smokeless power was invented in the late 1800s, because the "black powder caused too much fouling of the mechanism to allow automatics or self-loaders to be reliable." _

_(URL: .org/wiki/History_of_firearms)_

_**(23) **__The Printing Press:_

_Woodblock printing was widely used throughout East Asia, and originated in China as a method for printing on textiles, then later on paper. The earliest surviving example from China was dated as before 220 AD, and went to Egypt in the 4th century._

_The first printing press was invented in China in 593 AD, and the first printed newspaper was available in Beijing in 713 AD. It used woodblock printing._

"_Block printing first came to Christian Europe as a method for printing on cloth, where it was common by 1300... These prints were produced in very large numbers from about 1425 onwards."_

"_Around 1450, Johannes Gutenberg introduced what is regarded as an independent invention of moveable type in Europe…along with innovations in casting the type based on a matrix and a hand mould. Gutenberg was the first to create his type pieces from an alloy of lead, tin and antimony—the same components still used today... The high quality and relatively low price for the __Gutenberg Bible__ (1455) established the superiority of moveable type, and printing presses rapidly spread across Europe, leading up to the Renaissance… Today, practically all moveable type printing ultimately derives from Gutenberg's moveable type printing, which is often regarded as the most important invention of the second millennium."_

_(URL: .org/wiki/Printing)_

_**(24) I know I skipped one, but I couldn't find it in the chapter to change the numbering and am not sure what I drew from this particular URL. Something more about human evolution and technology, I'm sure. Still, I thought I'd leave the link so you could check it out, if you want to.**_

_(URL: .org/wiki/History_of_technology#19th_century)_

_**(25) **__Blacksmiths – A blacksmith is someone "who creates objects from iron or steel by forging them into metal" with "tools to hammer, bend, and cut. Blacksmiths produce things like wrought iron gates, grills, railings, light fixtures, furniture, sculpture, tools, agricultural implements, decorative and religious items, cooking utensils, horseshoes and weapons." I thought it was fairly obvious that the people stuck in the 'worker-bee Hell' as I've heard others refer to it, were being forced to work with metal. So I did some research into it. If you'd like into more yourself, Wikipedia's article is pretty thorough. (URL: .org/wiki/Blacksmith)_

_**(26) **__I'm not sure if Fed-Ex delivers on Sundays or not, but I don't think they do. Is this the sort of thing that the PTB might manipulate? Maybe. Assuming they want to keep Faith kind of on the straight and narrow, which I do. _

_And did they use the electronic-signature things in 1996, or clipboards? I thought it was probably clipboards. _

_**(27) **__Honestly, I don't know if the statement on computers and the generation gap makes sense. I know that I grew up with a computer at home and lessons to use them at school, but Charlie, going by his birth date for this story, is almost ten years older than me. So he'd be of my brother's generation, not mine. And my brother didn't have a computer growing up. Plus, the comment about only some companies having computers and those being huge and whatnot? That's either from my parents' generation or my dad's dad. _

_My paternal grandfather was born in 1901. He was a cost accountant (or something like that) for General Electric, and he retired exactly fifty years ago. When he did so, his entire branch of the company was cut and replaced by a gigantic computer, which was supposedly the first computer General Electric ever had. _

_In the late 1960s, my dad went to college and signed up for a computer course. When he went into the first class, he was handed a box of punch cards to put into a computer that was at least the size of our kitchen and living room combined. The computer was run with those punch cards. That's all my dad can tell me about that particular computer, since he's a total technophobe. He was then, too, he dropped the class right after he left the classroom on that first day. And he still hardly ever uses the computer, had to be harassed into actually keeping his cell phone charged, on and with him after my mom got it for him, and whether or not he'll actually use the I-Pod I set up for him to use in his car (though that's still a work in progress, I still have to add a couple hundred CDs to his library: it takes forever, since I-Tunes doesn't recognize most of them and I have to actually write in the titles/soundtrack and whatnot for most of the CDs, but he seems to like it. He's my main basis for Alan's aversion to computers, though it is canonical since we've seen him struggling with them on the show. I put a bit of my dad into Giles, too, for the same reason, but again that's canonical. _

_Anyway, I'm not sure how factual/accurate the segment on computers/generations/etc. was in this chapter, so I just wanted to let you know where I was getting it from. I hope it didn't throw anyone too much._

_**(28)**__Charlie's 'personal' opinion on teachers changing up the syllabus is more my own than his. Actually, basing it specifically on what we've seen in NUMB3RS, such as in Season 1, Episode # when Charlie complained about a student saying he was disorganized and he talked too fast, and Larry saying that was actually an accurate observation (or something like that), Charlie probably follows a fairly loose syllabus, and changes it around from time to time. Especially since he started working with the FBI, with cases intruding on his scheduling and occasionally involving his students in analyses and whatnot. Honestly, I never really minded if a teacher was a bit disorganized; I'd be a hypocrite if I said it did, since I generally am not organized; my computer and work I did/do on it being an unusual exception since I spend time occasionally going through it to make sure it stays over-organized. The teacher's I really didn't like were the ones that would give you a syllabus at the start of class, and then randomly decide every other week to hand out a new syllabus that sometimes looked nothing like the original... And this is pretty much just a rant, but I thought some people might pick up on Charlie's lack of organization making this an out-of-character comment, and thought I'd throw this in. Hope it helped._

_**(29)**__Tzimmes – What Margaret Eppes had prepared for dinner when Buffy, Joyce, Larry and Penfield were there for dinner. It's a kind of sweet stew that's usually orange in color and includes carrots, sweet potatoes and/or prunes and possibly some fruit like pineapple. The chef on the site I found also adds beef and white potatoes to it for Thanksgiving, too. Personally, the only thing I don't like the idea of is the prunes, other than that it sounds good, but I've never actually tried it. If you can recommend—and maybe even describe—any Jewish dishes that the Eppes might eat, I'd really appreciate it. I know in NUMB3RS that the Eppes weren't majorly into religion, and that Alan said he hadn't enter a synagogue since his wife's death—but Margaret's alive here, so I'm assuming they might have practiced a bit more then. Though maybe they only go for weddings and stuff like that, these are still recipes they'd probably know, right? _

_**(30)**__Anarchia – the word is Greek, means "without ruler" and is a reference I'm making to anarchism. In other words, the group that the woman Post killed was a spy for is a group of anarchists that call themselves the Order of Anarchia._

"_Anarchism is a political philosophy encompassing theories and attitudes which consider the state, as compulsory government, to be unnecessary, harmful, and/or undesirable, and favor the absence of state (anarchy)... Specific anarchists may have different criteria for what constitutes anarchism, and they often disagree with each other on what these criteria are. According to __The Oxford Companion to Philosophy__, "there is no single defining position that all anarchists hold, and those considered anarchists at best share a certain family resemblance. (URL: wiki/History_of_anarchism)_

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**AN: Well, there's the end of Frienemies! **_**Finally!**_** ^_^**

**Again, sorry it took me so long to get this out. My original goal was for Thanksgiving, months ago, but I just couldn't get the last few scenes of the chapter to come together for that. Then I was aiming for Christmas and New Years, but it still didn't work. I really do feel bad for making you guys wait so long. :-(**

**Getting the scenes together was hard, partially because of a writers block but also because my muses seem to be headed into different genres at the moment. So between the new fic ideas that they're concentrating and my types to write my own, original novel, I wasn't making much progress with this.**

**Nonetheless, I really do enjoy this crossover and have no intention of dropping the series. Especially since I already have some of the following stories written. I seriously just have to get up to them and then I'll be able to post much more regularly. _**

**Anyway, thanks to everyone for your patience, and again, sorry for the wait. **

**Hopefully Chapter 13 won't be as hard for me. *sigh***

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**Jess S**

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**NEXT: **_**Epilogue**_**.**


	14. Epilogue

**_Disclaimers:_**Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)

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**_Author's Recommendation:_**As this has become a fun, normal thing for me, I thought I'd give it it's own category. To those who are interested, this time I'm recommending one of the best fics I've seen so far for the new Star Trek fandom!

Atlas by Angel Baby1

Summary: Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning. Eventual K/S. Complete.

Fandom: _Star Trek: 2009_

: /s/5344838/

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**_Warnings: _**Um…None here. I think. If you see anything I should of warned you about, please let me know. I will be shocked, but I'll correct it. If this does occur; you have my apologies in advance.

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**_Author's First Note:_**Okay, I've decided to change everything up a little bit; or at least enough to overcome the huge block of concrete that's been blocking my creativity for too long. I've split up the chapters I'd outlined for A Call Away, and made them separate stories instead. Thus, shorter chapters but hopefully (much) quicker updates! Hope everyone approves.

Regardless, I am sorry it's been so long since I updated.

I know that, thus far, it's looked like I'm pretty much just going to go through each episode of Buffy and adapt it to fit my storyline. That's not the case. While I'll try to make sure I don't skip anything pertinent, some episodes just don't interest me, so I'll skip them. Which is what I've done here, and in the prologue of Holiday Horrors. Honestly, I tried to write both of the episodes, but it just wasn't working.

Sorry if you really wanted to see me trying to get Charlie into one of the episodes I've chosen to skip. :-(

And I hope you like the new chapters regardless. :-)

…Also, sorry for the very long note, though you're probably used to them by now.

Thanks to NeverTooOld for beta-reading once again! :-D

And now, enjoy the epilogue! :-)

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**A Call Away**

**_Part II in Mathematics & Magic_**

By Jess S

**_Epilogue_**

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_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

**_Eppes House, Pasadena, California – Monday, November 25, 1996_**

Charlie shook his head as he finally escaped his concerned (and curious) parents for the evening, taking refuge in his bedroom to call Annie. Which was fast becoming a tradition for them; one that both their mothers thought was ridiculously sweet. He didn't mean to, but he let a sigh out just as Annie answered the phone.

"_Charlie, hi!_" she greeted him, then immediately afterwards; the sigh having registered, "_You okay? You're calling a little late._"

"I'm fine," he immediately reassured her, hoping he sounded honest. "Sorry I'm late." He glanced at the clock. "I could call back later, after your patrol, if—"

"_Nah, Faith and I aren't headed out for another hour, at least. She's still scowling at the homework you sent her._"

Charlie blinked. "I…I didn't think it was that hard."

Most of it'd been review of multiplication tables, mixed in with a lot of long division, a little geometry and some basic algebra. All stuff that someone Faith's age really should know.

Of course, the thing everybody kept telling Charlie was going to be hard for him when it came to teaching was trying to understand what it was that his students had difficulties with. Because math just _wasn't_ hard for him, at all, and never had been; but he wasn't the norm.

Annie actually giggled, "_If she cared to pay attention in many—or any—math classes before now, I'd be surprised, Charlie. I think her Watcher got her up to speed on English and some history, but she's still laggin' behind a some in math and science._" Then she sighed, "_Mom and I've been trying to help her, but you might want ta give her a call again sometime soon. You're a much better teacher then either of us'll ever be._"

That made the mathematician's cheeks redden a little; though he had many fears that weren't soothed by the 'helpful' condescension of his soon-to-be co-workers, Annie always seemed to know what to say to make him feel a lot better. Especially since he knew that she wasn't fibbing even slightly. "I'll do that." And a moment of silence later, he asked, "Is everything okay with you? Is everything still okay with Vesta?"

"_Vesta's good. Mom's happy she's not, um, eating the furniture anymore, at least._"

For the first few days after they'd brought the fireling home, they hadn't known what to feed her. As a result, several pieces of wooden furniture had met their end as the fire-cat's meals. Thankfully though, only one of them had been an irreplaceable antique. Now they always made sure their mostly un-used fireplace always had a pile of wood in it, and had to regularly clean out the sometimes smoldering, ashy remains that the cat-like creature left behind.

"_The rest of us are 'bout as well as can be expected, I guess. What about you? Why were you so late? Are Lily an—_"

"Everyone's fine up here," he quickly reassured her, before shaking his head. "It's just my parents are starting to get a little worried. Don—"

"_Ah, big bro's still calling two ta three times a week?_"

Charlie sighed again, "Yup. And seeing as he was _barely_ calling every other week to keep _Mom_ from worrying before, they're a little worried about why he'd be calling _me_ so regularly now. Though I don't think he's mentioned anything about what happened in Sunnydale."

"_No, Mom says they don't even know that I was in the hospital._" Annie admitted, and Charlie got the distinct impression—undoubtedly at least partially influenced by their bond—that she was a little distracted by something. "_Though your mom's apparently sick of hearing you're 'fine,' I'm 'fine,' we're all 'fine' and all that. Mom was laughing a little about it, but she feels a little bad, too._"

Charlie laughed, "Yeah, Mom and Dad get the same line from Don and me all the time, so I think they hate that word."

But then again, if everything was 'fine' why had Don gone from talking to Charlie maybe once every three months or so to wanting to talk to him at least twice a week? And being considerably grouchy whenever Charlie missed his phone calls? Grouchy to Charlie after the fact, of course, _never_ to Mom and very rarely to Dad.

"_So how is your mysterious big brother?_"

"He hasn't called yet, actually. I might just make it without a phone call tonight, since it's getting so late. But I'd hardly call Don a mystery. He doesn't even solve them. Mysteries, I mean. Though I think he may be leaving bounty hunting behind soon. Mom said he got a job offer inNew Mexico, as an actual agent, no less."

"_Bet your parents are happy about that, at least._" Annie laughed and continued before he could respond. "_Maybe I'll finally get ta meet him if he's stayin' in one place for a little while._"

"Maybe," Charlie agreed with a nod, though he had to roll his eyes, too. "And yes, all of us are happy with the idea," then he winced as something occurred to him; "Wait… there aren't too many demons inNew Mexico, are there?"

That made Annie laugh. "_Compared to Sunnydale? Or even just California, as a result of Sunnyhell? There are probably some demons in the desert; and some probably pass through the cities and stuff, but he should be fairly safe there. Though **you're** the one that's trying to help Willow build that computer-program that tells us where the demons are all bumpin' around._"

At that, Charlie winced. "Well, yes, but it's not even close to being ready yet. I need a lot more data to work with before I'll be able to draw up suitable search parameters. And it's not the easiest thing to discuss over the phone."

"_More data, huh?_" she sighed. "_Do you want me to ask Giles? Again?_"

It was nice of her to offer, especially since he knew it wasn't something she really liked talking to her Watcher about.

"Willowalready did, but thank you." Charlie shook his head again. "Sorry, it's just hard not to worry. Especially when Don doesn't even know what he needs to be careful of, and he's in a dangerous job already."

"_I know,_" was the eldest Slayer's quiet reply.

"It just makes it all the worse, too, you know? I know one of the reasons he's calling so much is that he feels bad for not being here when I was 'mugged,' but even if he had been, he wouldn't have been able to anything."

"_Not that you can tell big brother that, I know._" Now she sounded tired, making Charlie wince.

Other than Don's long-distance, over-protective, big brother attitude, the last month had been fairly quiet for the Eppes family. Which was a decidedly good thing, as it'd taken Charlie more than a few days to recover from 'helping' Annie the last time she needed it. The only exception to his easy days had, of course, been pretty much Annie's life, as she'd dealt with much more stressful times as of late. Though that undoubtedly was a norm he should expect, given their personal vocations, chosen and otherwise.

But, all things considered, the start of the year's second-to-last month hadn't been too bad for the Sunnydale crew.

They'd gotten the results of their S.A.T.'s back.

Xander wasn't pleased with his, but Charlie had gotten the distinct impression that he hadn't expected to be.

Willow, also, scored lower then she'd liked, though Charlie had had no trouble pointing out that a lot of the questions on the S.A.T. were meant to trick the test-takers. Although none of the math problems had been at all difficult for Charlie (when he'd faced them years before), a few of the English ones had certainly confused him.

For a slight change though, Annie had been pleasantly surprised by her combined score of 1430. Charlie had been much less surprised, having known that Annie was much smarter than she tended to think of herself, often a bit too caught up in the blonde-stereotype she focused on portraying. (1)

Mrs. Summers had been _thrilled_. And, by extension, Charlie's parents had been also. Alan and Margaret Eppes now talked to Joyce Summers via phone on at least a weekly basis, since they'd really hit it off when they actually met. Of course, Charlie and Annie were _well_ aware of the fact that the main source of conversation between the two parties were, undoubtedly, their children and 'their just budding relationship' (as Charlie's Dad had dubbed it). Still, neither was apt to deny their parents such simple pleasures, and it kind of reassured Charlie that an adult who knew about the supernatural was now kind of helping make sure his parents didn't somehow end up wandering to the Hellmouth for surprise parties or anything of the sort. As those were the thoughts of determinedly suppressed nightmares.

By comparison, Charlie knew that Annie was more than a little concerned at the idea of leaving Sunnydale and all of the main Slayerly-duties to her sister-Slayer. While Faith was shaping up to be a great Slayer, the responsibilities were still more than a little staggering for one girl to shoulder, as Annie herself knew well. And having already lived through the death of one sister-Slayer, Annie was more then a little fearful of not being there when Faith needed her.

Still, it would be nice if Annie could get away from the Hellmouth on a semi-regular basis. And it wasn't like going to school inLos Angeleswould put her too far away from Sunnydale. It was barely a two hour drive; and much less if they involved any of the many witches they were now on friendly terms with.

Annie had also been worried for her friends,Willowand Xander, whom she knew felt back enough about their prior disloyalties, even without the repercussions they'd bring. Though she did know that nothing significant had happened between her two BFFs since she confronted them with her observations. She'd been rather relieved when she and Faith had been invited to go bowling with the two couples, hoping that the fun-filled atmosphere would ease the tension that was building up between the couples.

Not that that'd turned out anywhere near as well as they might've hoped…

Charlie released his lip from between his teeth to ask, "How is everyone doing? Xander's back in school, right?"

On one hand, that night had been decidedly awful; first resulting in everyone worrying forWillow, and eventually ending up with Xander badly injured.

On the other hand… well, Spike had apparently been insanely drunk. Which had been an eye-opener in and of itself; who knew vampires could even _get_ drunk? Charlie'd theorized that such things might be possible if, say, they drank the blood of a drunk person. But no, apparently vampires could get drunk off of just plain liquor, too. Though, if they'd all understood Spike's ramblings correctly, it took a _lot_ of alcohol.

"_Yeah, he's a bit better, I think._" Annie replied, still sounding subdued. "_They let him outta the hospital on Sunday, and he skipped Monday, but he was in today._"

Charlie nodded slowly. "And how are they doing?Willowand Oz, and Cordelia and Xander?" he actually felt her wince over the bond.

"_Cordy tried to interrogate me yesterday._"

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh?"

"_Yeah. Guess she's finally caught the somethin's goin' on vibe. Not that that's hard, since Willow already confessed to Oz and he called a time-out and everything. But…yeah._"

"So Cordelia suspects, or…?"

"_I told her she should talk to Xander. She won't while he's recovering, I think, because he looks really pathetic right now, and he's still pretty out-of-it 'cause of the painkillers, but…yeah._"

Charlie paused a second as he heard the house phone start ringing, but immediately decided on ignoring it as both his parents were home and he was already on his cell phone with Annie. Plus, he was pretty sure it was his brother calling, _again_, and he didn't feel like talking to him now. "Did you warn him?"

"_…No. I wasn't sure I should—_"

"Charlie, are you still on the phone with Annie?" his mother's voice rang up the stairs with a slightly expectant edge to it. She _knew_ he was, because he'd only just started talking to her, but she was humoring Don by asking for him. Which was made all the more obvious by the slightly irritated amusement that he could sense from both his parents downstairs.

"One second, Annie," he pulled the phone away from his head, covering the speaker with one hand, before yelling back. "Yes, I am!"

"Okay, thank you, dear." And then she wasn't shouting anymore, he could just barely hear the distant mumble of her voice as she, undoubtedly, started talking to Don again.

"Sorry, Annie. Don called again."

The Slayer chuckled softly, and he had the distinct impression she was shaking her head on her side of the phone. "_Didn't he call yesterday?_"

"Yes." The mathematician confirmed with an irritated sigh. "I'm not sure he's gonna let this go, Annie. I mean, I hope he does, because…well, because—"

"_Your family has enough to worry about with Don fighting all the bad humans in the world. We don't need to drag him into the war with monsters, demons and everything else, too._"

"Yeah," Charlie winced. "Sorry, it's just—"

"_Don't apologize, Charlie._" Annie's voice was as firm as firm could be, all amusement gone in the wake of total seriousness. "_If I could keep you, my Mom and my friends out of… my world, do you think I wouldn't?_"

At that, all his nervousness and irritation also vanished, to be replaced by concern, "I'd hope you'd trust us to do what we think is best, Annie. No matter how much you care, you don't have the right to take the…" he trailed off as he realized what he was saying, and winced as her sigh came over the line.

"_To take your choice from you? No, I don't. But it's not that easy, is it?_"

He looked down, and also sighed. "No. No, it's not…"

Again, he sensed her shake her head through their bond, this time allowing his own head to follow the slow motion in response, finding it somehow a little soothing to do so; though if asked to explain why, he couldn't.

"_But we're getting a bit serious now. It's something we should, probably, talk about, if your brother keeps it up. But not now._"

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding now. "Yeah, thanks."

"_So you think I should?_"

Charlie blinked, a little thrown. "Should what?"

"_Warn Xander? About Cordelia?_"

Both the return to the previous discussion topic and the question made the mathematician wince. "Umm…I'm not sure, either. Why don't you ask your Mom?"

"_I would,_" Annie sighed again. "_But that'd probably result in my Mom giving Xander and Willow disappointed looks for a while, and they'd notice._"

"Oh, true." Charlie thought for a second. "Uh, I could ask my Mom?"

"_Oh, would you?_"

He sighed, "Yeah, sure. I just have to head downstairs, okay?"

"_K…you know you can take the phone—_"

"Yes, I'm taking the phone with me, so you can eavesdrop," he rolled his eyes, as he reached his bedroom door, passing through and heading down the stairs. "It'll just take me a minute to get down there…and she might be on the phone with Don still."

He honestly wasn't surprised that Annie was so concerned about the situation her friends had worked themselves into. The last few weeks hadn't been easy on any of them, and Annie had already had more than her fair-share of heartache. Though she'd never cheated on someone she loved, she had killed him. She hadn't had a choice, but that didn't make the emotional effects any easier.

"_Oh… Right. Okay._"

Charlie chuckled softly, shaking his head as he reached the bottom step, stopping and listening for a second as he tried to figure out where his parents were, since neither one was in the living room.

As he wandered down, he couldn't help but think back on the most recent drama the Scoobies had survived. Some of it still seemed rather strange to him.

For example; how had Annie and the rest of the Scoobies found out thatWillowhad been kidnapped by Spike in the first place?

It wasn't because she'd somehow managed to escape and gotten the tale from the witch-in-training first-hand. Oh no.

No. The intoxicated vampire had actually decided to pay a visit to Annie's mother. Since they'd apparently met before, when Angelus was trying to get the world sucked into a Hell dimension and all that…

"—your brother's fine, Donnie. Really," Margaret Eppes' slightly aggravated voice came from the backyard, and her younger son headed slowly towards it, not overly eager to face her wrath, even for Annie. "I don't understand why you're so worried. I know Annie's his first girlfriend, but… Well, yes, but… _Donnie!_" this time his brother's nickname was edged with a definite note of admonishment, and Charlie bristled instinctively as he wondered what his brother had said about him.

Faith hadn't been interested in bowling with the Scoobies, and had actually stayed home that night to specifically work on some of the math problems that Charlie had sent her. So when Annie returned home specifically to collect Faith for an emergency patrol/search forWillow, she'd found the younger Slayer brawling with the familiar master vampire. They'd been in the Summers' living room when Annie arrived home, Faith pretty much beating the crap out of Spike while Joyce watched in wide-eyed horror.

"_What's wrong?_" Annie's concerned voice echoed faintly from his cell phone, since it wasn't quite pressed up to his ear, and her concern also resonated across their empathetic bond, making him realize he'd let his annoyance cross over to hit her.

Charlie quickly brought the phone back to his ear, and murmured quietly into it. "Sorry, my mom's still talking to Don… about me."

That made her chuckle again.

She hadn't been laughing when she'd found Spike in her living room. Though it wasn't a fair fight at all, as Spike had already been very, very, _very_ drunk at the time. And thus Faith was more than capable of holding her own, and basically just beating him into a bloody pulp because she was mad that he'd come anywhere near Joyce.

Still, Annie had, understandably, been more than a little surprised when she'd sensed that Spike was actually telling the truth when he claimed he'd just been dropping by to talk to Mrs. Summers and had no real interest in hurting Annie's mom.

But that wasn't what had made Annie stop Faith from staking the master-vampire. No, it was his announcement that he had their 'little red witch' and that said witch—Willow—would surely starved to death where he left her, but that he was perfectly willing to let her go, right after she'd cast a spell for him. A love spell, to make his Sire, Drusilla, love him again.

"Donnie, your brother's quite capable of looking after himself. He's legally an adult now. And Annie's a very nice girl!" his mother's chiding voice intruded on his recollections.

And somewhat surprisingly the Eppes' patriarch's voice also chimed in a second later, "If you'd visited any time over the summer you would've met her and seen for yourself…"

"…We know you were busy, dear, but family is one of those things you have to make time for. How else can…No, no. I'm sorry, dear. We're both sorry. But we do worry about you, your father and I, and Charlie. Your life is considerably more dangerous than any of ours are."

Charlie winced as he sensed that his parents honestly believed that wholeheartedly. Though they'd be right, most of the time. As long as he wasn't doing anything with Annie or _Angels' House_.

"_Ooh, that one hurts a bit._" Annie's sympathetic voice came over the line, followed by a wave of warmth through the bond. "_It's lines like that that make you really not want to tell them, huh?_"

"Yup," he agreed, even as he hovered outside the kitchen door, waiting for their phone call to end. He'd figured out that both of them were outside on the patio and he'd could hear them through the kitchen window, so it was undoubtedly open. But if he went through they'd see him, and that'd make not-talking-to-Don hard, even with his still active cell phone in hand.

The love-spell thing had, justifiably, thrown both Slayers more than a little. It _was_ a soulless member of the Scourge of Europe who was whining about his lost love and wanting a love spell cast to get her back, after all. All of it'd actually made Charlie a little interested in meeting the strange vampire, but he very carefully hadn't mentioned that to his girlfriend.

But back to the adventures in Sunnydale itself; the Slayers had reluctantly agreed to let the love spell be cast on Drusilla.

In the meantime, Oz, Xander and Cordelia had managed to follow Oz's nose to the abandoned factory whereWillowwas trapped. All agreed that the werewolf's ability to sniff someone out even while in his human form was a bit creepy, though Giles believed that it only really worked as well as it did because the wolf-side recognized Willow as Oz's mate and therefore it was only to be expected that Oz would be particularly sensitive to her scent.

Oz had managed the perilous stairs to get to where Willow was handcuffed to some of the pipes, and it'd been fairly easy for him to break a segment of the extremely rusty piping off so that they could slide the handcuff free and break them off of Willow's wrist later: something easily done by an over-eager Faith the moment they met up with the Slayers. Apparently the younger Slayer had wanted to try breaking handcuffs for a while now, which had made Annie sigh, but she'd determinedly refused to ask the 'why?' that Faith's eager display had all but demanded.

No, freeingWillowwasn't really the problem with the group at the factory, though it was hard to get her out safely.

No, the problem was that while Buffy, Faith and Spike were fending off a large gang of minion-vamps sent by a vampire named Trick to kill Spike, Xander hadn't fared as well on the stairs as the considerably more dexterous Oz had. He'd put too much weight on a rotted wooden step and had fallen straight through the stairs, landing in just such a way to be impaled on piece of rusty rebar sticking out of rubble-covered floor below.

"_How'd you get them through the House without them seeing anything supernatural, anyway?_"

Charlie winced at the memory, before replying, "Very carefully. And they never saw the main office…or most of the weapons."

"_Ahhh._"

"…He's on the phone with Annie right now, Don. ..._No_, we _can't_," again there was a sharp note of rebuke in Margaret Eppes' voice. "How would you like it if we made you to talk to him when you were on the phone with a girlfriend that lives several hours away?"

A pause, and then their Dad answered Don. "She's looking at schools inL. she'll be around next year." Then a shorter pause, followed with; "Who can tell, Donnie?"

"And you've no right to say anything against a girl you've never met, over-protective big brother or not." Now Charlie was honestly surprised at just how much of a scolding his older brother was getting, especially since he could sense their mother's irritation quite clearly. But then it was explained. "And I honestly can't believe you didn't call and tell us that Charlie's girlfriend was in the hospital once you realized that she was."

"Uh-oh," Charlie winced yet again.

"_What?_"

"Mom knows you were in the hospital now."

"…Yes, Annie's his girlfriend, but your brother's always been a bit forgetful and he had more than ample reason to be distracted!"

Charlie wasn't entirely sure if he should be relieved that he was apparently at least somewhat off the hook with his mother, or miffed that he was only off the hook because she considered him 'a bit forgetful.' Though, after a second of thought, he couldn't really deny the charge.

"_…You mean she just found out?_"

"I _think_ so. I mean, I probably would've heard something from one of my parents before now if they'd already known. And they definitely would've called your mom about it. Don must've mentioned it this time."

"_Oh joy._"

"…It would've taken barely two minutes, Donnie! If that! And you certainly had the time, since you said you had to _leave_ right after!" Heavy disapproval there, too. Obviously Mrs. Eppes didn't like Don's boss telling him to get out of Sunnydale shortly after Annie'd been hurt.

Charlie couldn't help but back slowly away from his mother's annoyed voice, slowly inching himself back towards the stairs that led to his bedroom…or maybe to the front door, through which he might actually stand a chance of escaping his mother's reaction to all this. "Umm, Annie?"

"_Yeah?_"

"Do I have to ask my Mom tonight?"

"_…I guess not. Is she really that mad?_"

"Mad? No. Annoyed? Yes, very much so."

Again she just chuckled. "_Well, I guess you can hide up in your room if you'd prefer._"

"Well thank you ever so much." Charlie replied sarcastically, but let a flare of humor shoot across their bond at the same time.

All the while, thoughts of his girlfriend's most recent 'adventure' on the Hellmouth continued to circulate.

The master vampire, Spike, had received a very clear display of just how well two Slayers could work together when in the time he was beating and finally staking his former minion, Lenny, the two Slayers had staked almost all of the attacking vampires. Only a few of the dozen got away, and that was really only because neither Slayer had felt like chasing the cowards at that time. Not when they wanted to know whereWillowwas.

Somewhat amusingly, it'd been while Spike was beating Lenny up that he'd come to the realization that the only way he was going to get Drusilla back was if he became the man he once was again; the man she loved. Which certainly wasn't the weepy drunkard that'd stumbled back into Sunnydale, but the master-vampire that most other vampires and many lesser demons feared. That was when he'd bid the Slayers farewell, telling them where 'little red' was chained up, before heading out of town, his last line to the bemused Slayers as he dashed off being: "love's a funny thing!"

Strangely, the whole incident had been a good thing for Annie and Charlie. Because the comments and the whole experience of essentially assisting in the relationship-troubles of two vampires had led to Charlie and Annie discussing their own relationship a lot more.

The math-genius had taken a bus ride to Sunnydale a few days later, on Saturday, so that they could go on their first, actual date. He was also considering trying, _again_, to master driving so that he could get a license and a car, which would make going to Sunnydale and taking his girlfriend out on dates, considerably easier.

Anyway, Annie and Faith had arrived at the factory mere moments after Xander had fallen through the stairs, rushing into the building in response to Cordelia's terrified shrieks. Upon finding that the problem wasn't something they could slay, both Slayers had been more then a little panicked, but it was Faith who immediately pulled out her cell phone and called Charlie.

Charlie, himself, wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that the younger Slayer's choice to call _him_ when faced with an emergency. Surely Dr. Giles or Mrs. Summers, given their much closer proximity and positions of authority in the girls' lives would make more sense, but he thought he'd reacted rather well, nonetheless.

He'd told Faith to have Buffy call the nurse at Sunnydale General that was also in the employ of the Watchers Council. Nurse Robert's cell phone number had been programmed into all three of their cell phones, though Charlie hadn't yet met the woman. He'd actually procured the number with a little bit of difficulty from Dr. Giles—not that the man hadn't been happy to give it to him, it'd just taken him a while to find it in his own records and had thus made Charlie glad he'd asked for it.

He'd also had Faith call Dr. Giles, for further instructions and the Watcher's peace of mind, and asked that they call him back as soon as possible afterwards, stating that he would let Mrs. Summers know where they were off to, knowing the poor woman was undoubtedly quite petrified given the last time she'd seen either Faith or her daughter they'd been leaving in the company of a vampire whom they'd told her was not the safest being to be around.

The Watcher nurse's response was quick and efficient. She'd apparently arrived with an ambulance mere moments after a friend of hers, a witch, arrived and used magic to safely extract Xander from his perilous placement. He'd been taken to the hospital, a frantic Cordelia going along for the ride while Oz,Willow, Faith and Annie had followed in Oz's van. Giles and Joyce had met them at the hospital.

Thankfully, Xander had not only survived the fall, but had actually not hit any of his vital organs, either.

However, the relationship troubles of the two BFFs had come to a head with the whole episode, as Willowhad felt even more guilty with the combined reasons of their secretly suppressed passions _and_ Xander getting hurt while trying to help her. When she professed as much to her boyfriend, Oz had understandably reasoned that as the two were best friends it only made sense that they'd worry for each other. ButWillow had finally broken down then, and admitted to the growing attraction between her and Xander.

Oz had, rather reasonably, called a time out on their relationship, saying he'd give her a little while to think about who she wanted to be with—despite her protests. The werewolf had then gone to talk to Annie about it, and was unsurprised when she admitted she and Faith had both noticed and confronted the pair before then.

But Annie was almost certain that Oz, himself, had had his own suspicions before that.

"_You still there, Charlie?_"

"Yeah, I'm still here," he replied, smiling slightly as her amusement hit him from across their bond as he gently closed the door to his bedroom behind him, part of him wishing it had a lock as he did so. "…So everything's been mostly quiet?"

"_Yeah, other than the Scooby gang's inner drama, of course._"

"Of course, though thankfully it's not like a little teen angst is capable of ending the world," the genius offered, letting a bit of humor slip into his tone, smiling as it stole another laugh from his girlfriend.

"_True,_" she agreed, and he could both hear and feel the bright smile that was stretching across her lips right then.

"Charlie?" his mother's voice suddenly echoed up the stairs again, making him wince.

"One second, Annie," he told her again, before once more covering the cell phone's receiver to shout back, "Yeah, Mom?"

"When you and Annie are done, your father and I need to talk to you," was her reply, and he winced again as he caught the definite edge of irritation in her voice.

Not that he needed to hear it, as he'd already felt it radiating from the lower floor of his home, along with many other potent emotions—like fear and worry—for the last several minutes.

"Sure, Mom. I'll be down soon," he called back, before turning his attention back to his girlfriend again. "Sorry, Annie, I don't think I should keep them waiting."

"_Yeah, don't want 'em to stew,_" the Slayer agreed, before sighing. "_I should probably be gettin' ready to go on patrol anyway. Good luck._"

"You too. And both of you be careful out there."

"_Always_," was Annie's smiling reply.

**End of…**

**A Call Away**.

* * *

**_NOTES FROM WITHIN THE CHAPTER:_**

**(1) Apparently we have just the one. This probably isn't necessary, but I thought I should add in a reminder that Buffy's score on the SAT's of 1430 is actually pretty good, because this is set in 1996, which means she took the old SATs, which means her score was 1430/1600 NOT 1430/2000.**

* * *

**_Author's End Note:_ I know this is short, but it covers what I felt needed to be covered before we get into Holiday Horrors. **

**And I'll say, again, that I'm sorry for the wait on all this. Hope it turns out to be at least somewhat worth it…**

* * *

**_To Be Continued in…_**

**Holiday**** Horrors******

**_Prologue_**.


End file.
